


(But) Baby We're Everything

by writingtwentyfour



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Boss/Employee Relationship, Bottom Louis Tomlinson, Daddy Kink, Dom Harry, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I think that’s it, Implied Mpreg, Jealous Harry, Jealous Louis Tomlinson, Kid Fic, Light BDSM, M/M, Miscommunication, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Panic Attack, Riding, Spanking, Sub Louis, Top Harry, its not just about sex though i promise, it’s literally like 3 scenes - h and l are just kinky ig, sort of a, that’s a lot of smut tags whoops, there's one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:22:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 117,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28213104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingtwentyfour/pseuds/writingtwentyfour
Summary: A Teacher AU in which Harry and Louis broke up at the end of university, Louis was hired at a primary school just outside London, and Harry enrolled at Cambridge to finish his degree and get his EdD.Years later finds Louis as a year two teacher at the same school he's been employed at since he graduated, and with a three year old son, and Harry as the newest addition to Little Harbor Primary’s staff.
Relationships: Gigi Hadid/Zayn Malik, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Maya Henry/Liam Payne, Niall Horan/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 123





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> After three long months of editing and writing, this is finally done. mostly I'm just proud of myself for finishing this because that was the main goal really - to challenge myself and not give up on something so long, and this monster fic is the result of that
> 
> this is the longest story I've ever written by a very long shot and after reading it through a couple times I think I like it, so I've decided to post it and hope for the best, and I hope you like it too if you decide to give it a chance :)
> 
> Another thing is that I apologize for any/all inconsistencies with the English school system. I did some small research, so I at least knew a little of what was going on, but I’m afraid I’m from America and don’t have much knowledge of it. I think it will end up being more of an English/American school system mix, so some things, like when they start and end the school year (it will start in early August and end in late May), will be different and based off the American school system. I’m sorry in advance if it’s confusing, and I’ll try to make it as clear as possible :)
> 
> Also, this is an Mpreg story, which means that it’s obviously a little different than reality. I’ve warned you in advance and if you don’t feel comfortable with that, don’t feel pressured to read. It’s an important detail to the story, but it isn’t mentioned too much, mostly just implied, so if Mpreg does make you uncomfortable, I don’t think this will really, but again, up to you
> 
> And there’s a panic attack once in a later chapter, so a warning about that too - it only effects the one chapter though and isn't a reoccurring thing or anything, but I think it's important that I warn just in case, as well as put it in the tags
> 
> If there's anything else you think I should add to the tags or warnings, let me know 
> 
> Okay, I think that’s all. Thanks, enjoy :)

**_i._ **

Louis was already awake when his alarm went off at five forty-five sharp on Monday morning, the first day of school at Little Harbor Primary. He’d been up since five twenty really, lying in bed with his hands crossed over his stomach, thinking about how today would go. It was his fourth year at the little primary school on the outskirts of London, having been hired straight out of University as a year two teacher, but he never stopped being nervous anticipating his new students (who always turned out to be wonderful) and their parents (who were almost always tolerable).

Louis sighed, tiredly reaching one arm over and turning off his alarm before closing his eyes one more time and sitting up in bed. He looked around the almost dark room, the sun still not up yet. _He_ _shouldn’t be up_ , his brain supplied oh-so-helpfully.

Louis pulled himself off the mattress, trudging to his closet and pulling out a pair of black skinnies and a loose white t-shirt, putting a thin washed-blue button up over it and leaving it open. The nice thing about teaching six-year-olds is that he doesn’t have to look nice for work; they’ll probably end up spilling something on him by the end of the day anyway.

Louis went into the bathroom, running a brush through his feathery hair to tame it as much as he could, brushing his teeth and relieving himself after. It was six o’ five by the time he was finished getting ready, clothes on and his morning chores done.

  
He walked down the hallway next, opening the door to the other bedroom and looking inside. Xavier was already awake, bouncing on his feet with an excited smile on his tiny face and clutching onto the crib railing with his hands. He was going to need a big boy bed soon, but for now the crib worked. He still liked to roll around a lot in his sleep anyway. Louis figured the boy didn’t mind much.

Louis instantly relaxed when he looked at his boy, all stress from the day ahead momentarily leaving. “Daddy!” the toddler exclaimed excitedly when he saw his father standing in the doorway of his room.

Louis’s smile grew ten-fold at the boy as he pushed himself off the door frame and walked further into his son’s room. “Hey, Bub,” he smiled, picking up the boy out of the crib and bouncing him on his hip.

“Dadda!” the boy repeated.

Louis just smiled, “How ‘bout we get dressed now, yeah love?”

“Yes!” The toddler exclaimed, kicking his legs excitedly.

Louis set the boy down on the ground on his play mat that was in his room, walking over to the closet and opening the sliding door. He sifted through the piles, eventually grabbing out a pair of grey joggers and a white and gold striped t-shirt. He turned around, closing the door and kneeling in front of Xavier, holding the clothing up in his hands.

“How’s this look, Zee?”

Xavier smiled happily at his father and nodded his head.

Louis sat down, pulling the firetruck patterned pj shirt and pants off of his boy and replacing them with the day clothes. Louis grabbed a pair of tiny socks out of the basket to place on the toddler’s feet too, standing him up when he was done.

“Alrighty, breakfast?” he asked the boy.

“Hungry, hungry, hungry,” the boy chanted his assent, making grabby hands at his father. Louis indulged him, standing up himself and reaching down to wrap the boy up in his arms, even if he shouldn’t.

(The pediatrician had said Louis should start having Xavier walk everywhere to strengthen his leg muscles, but he's got the task down pretty well so far, and Louis just can't say no to that face, so.)

He walked out of the bedroom with Xavier on his hip, the small padding of his socks on the wood floor following him to the kitchen. He set Xavier down in a chair at the small table when he got there, pushing the seat in to make sure he wouldn’t fall out of it.

Louis walked over to the white fridge that had been in the flat since they moved in, looking at what filled it and what could pass as breakfast food. “Eggs Bubs?”

“Yeah, Daddy.” Xavier nodded happily, playing with a fork on the table like it was an action figure and making the very necessary sound effects with it.

Louis smiled at his boy, grabbing the container from the fridge and a pan from under the stove.

  
“You ready for your first day of school Bubs?” Louis talked as he sprayed the pan and cracked four eggs into it.

“Yeah, Daddy! Get to see my friends. M’ excited,” the boy beamed. Louis hummed in acknowledgement, turning back to the eggs and seeing that they were done. He spooned them out onto two plates, turning off the stove and bringing the plates over to the table, setting one down in front of Xavier and one for himself.

“Here babe,” he told the boy, handing him a small fork, “Be careful, it’s hot Bub.”

Xavier practically yanked the fork out of his dad’s hand - overeager - digging into his small plate of eggs and giving a quick, “Thanks, dadda,” before taking a bite and then immediately spitting said bite out and pouting, “Owie, hot. Hurt’s dadda.”

Louis shook his head, biting back a smile so the boy wouldn’t think he was laughing at him, but it was a close thing. His son was just as impatient as him, always forgetting to blow on his food first. “Told you it was hot baby. Here,” Louis grabbed the plate from in front of the toddler, picking up the fork and blowing on a bite of the egg before feeding it to Xavier.

The boy chewed it happily now, content that he had been fed and bobbing his head back and forth while he ate, like he was dancing to a song that wasn’t playing. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Xavier mumbled around the bite, smiling with his brown curly hair falling in his face.

Louis smiled, endeared, and continued to feed the boy, blowing on each bite first while feeding himself at the same time. By the time they were finished it was already six thirty-five, giving the two only five minutes to get out the door and in the car.

“Shoot,” Louis said when he checked the time on his phone, quickly standing up and grabbing both plates off the table, setting them in the sink. He walked back over to the table, picking Xavier up from his chair and quickly setting him on the ground by the door, grabbing the boy’s shoes and strapping them on his feet while the toddler steadied himself on his father’s shoulders, babbling on about a dream he had last night.

He quickly pulled a pair of white vans on too, grabbing his work bag and slinging it over his shoulder, bending down to grab Xavier’s hand while the boy tried to stand up too. Louis looked around the flat one more time, making sure he wasn’t forgetting anything, before grabbing the keys off the hook and opening the door, holding Xavier’s hand while he walked out.

Xavier hopped along the sidewalk out of their first floor flat, pulling on Louis’s hand to try and swing himself around. Louis indulged him of course, letting the boy hang from his arm while they walked and practically pulling the boy along with him, the toddler letting out happy giggles.

Louis smiled at his son when they got to the car, making sure Xavier was going to stay standing upright and steady before he pulled his hand away. The car chirped open when the car key was clicked, Louis pulling the rear door to the 2013 black Chevy Impala open.

“Up you go bud,” Louis said lifting the happy toddler into the car seat behind his own seat, buckling Xavier in and making sure the restraints were secure enough before handing him a toy to play with. Louis climbed in the driver seat after closing the back door, setting his phone and bag in the middle console before buckling himself in and turning the key in the ignition. He looked in the rearview mirror once he collected himself, smiling fondly at his three-year-old who was off in his own little world. “You ready babe?”

Xavier just smiled goofily and waved his hands in the air excitedly from his seat. Louis took it as a yes. 

-

Louis pulled into the school parking lot at six fifty, giving him barely ten minutes to drop Xavier off at before-care and make it to the first staff meeting of the year.

He quickly unbuckled himself, turning off the engine and grabbing his bag and phone from the passenger seat before opening the car door and reopening the one behind it.

Xavier was all smiley, sitting in the car seat and beaming up at his dad while trying and failing to be self-sufficient and get unbuckled himself.

“Hold on babe, I’ll help you,” Louis reached forward and started working on the buckles, Xavier happily pulling his hands back and letting him with a focused look on his face as he studied how his seat worked, tongue poked out in concentration. “Alright, kiddo, let’s go,” Louis held his arms out to the boy, letting Xavier fall into them and hoisting him onto his right hip while he used his left arm to close the door.

He walked up to the doors, swiping his ID badge across the reader at the employee entrance and walking in. The secretary greeted him when he walked in, getting a wave back in return and babbled nonsense from the toddler on Louis’s hip.

Louis took the route down to the before-care room, passing by other teachers getting ready for the day and giving greetings while Xavier babbled on about random things that didn’t quite make sense, just humming in agreement to his son to keep him content.

Louis arrived in front of the before-care room, seeing a couple other kids already inside and waiting for their own classes to start while their mothers or fathers were getting ready to teach somewhere else in the building. Ally, the daycare worker, came up to the door, smiling at the boy in Louis’s arms.

“Look who’s gotten so big!” she cooed, reaching her hands out for the boy she’d been watching since Louis started working at the school. “Aunt Ally!” Xavier proclaimed happily, going into her arms without a fight. Ally grabbed the boy, smiling at him and tickling his tummy before looking back up to Louis. “Hey, Lou. Meeting?”  
  
“Yep,” Louis responded, popping the ‘p’ and checking his watch, “…in like three minutes. Crap.” Louis looked back up to Ally, giving her a sorry smile for not being able to talk any longer.

She waved a hand at him and smiled, “Go, it’s alright. We’ll catch up later.”

Louis smiled gratefully and told her, “Thanks. You’re the best,” before turning to Xavier and giving him a quick kiss on his forehead. “Alright Bub. Be good. I love you. Oh - wait.” He turned back to Ally. “He’s got class this year. With Niall.”

Ally nodded her head, “I know Lou. I’ll get him there. Don’t worry.”

Louis smiled gratefully again at her, giving another sincere thank you and giving Xavier another kiss. It was always hardest leaving him the first day after break. Three months wasn’t enough alone time with his kid.

When Ally finally made Louis get his head in gear, practically pushing him down the hall towards the conference room, he went, turning around only one more time to wave at his son who was already smiling happily at him.

Once Louis turned the corner, he half ran down the main hallway, trying to get to the conference room as quick as possible. He was already late as it is, and Jan always hated that, no matter how sweet she was. Reminded him of his nan, he always thought. 

He finally walked into the room, seeing the other primary school teachers and employees already sat around the large table. His best friends since college (or before) - Niall, one of the preschool teachers, Liam, the vice principal, and Zayn, a year two teacher like Louis - were there as well, sitting together at one end of the table with an empty chair next to Niall.

Louis entered and the three of them all looked up at him, him giving them a greeting smile as he plopped down in the seat next to the brunette Irish leprechaun. “Hey lads,” Louis greeted, leaning back in his chair.

“You’re late,” Liam chastised him.

“Oh, Lima. Time is only a number.”

Liam furrowed his eyebrows, “I… don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”

Louis waved a dismissive hand, taking a look around the room, “Details. I don’t see Jan though. Thought she was gonna kill me for being late.”

This time Zayn is the one who speaks. “You didn’t hear? Jan retired officially after last year, wanted some more time with the grandkids.”

Louis furrowed his eyebrows, “Then… who’s the new principal?”

Niall jumped in. “We don’t know yet. We’re all finding out today. At this meeting. Except he’s a little late.”

“He?”

  
  
Niall nodded, “Yep. Young too.”

Louis rolls his eyes, “Great, just what we need.”

Liam pouts at that, remarkably resembling that of a puppy, “ _Heyyy_. He could be good. You shouldn’t just assume he isn’t because he’s young. _We’re_ young,” Liam points out, gesturing to the four of them. He’s always one to defend everybody, even those he doesn’t know yet and are late to their first day of work as the head of a school.

“I’m twenty-seven,” Louis deadpans.

“Fine. _We’re_ young, just us three,” Liam corrects, earning a snort from Zayn and a mock glare from Louis.

“You’re hilarious Payno. Should just quit your job and go into stand-up comedy lad.”

Liam nods his head happily, “’Been thinking ‘bout that actually.”

This time Louis snorts.

“Well,” Louis starts, getting back on track to the original topic, “looks like our new principal is late.”

Niall shrugs. “Just gives us more time to play on our phones,” he adds, pulling his phone out of his pocket at that.

Louis smiles at his best friend since all the way back in year four, pulling his phone out too, “Knew I kept you around for a reason Nialler,” he praised the man, Niall beaming like he was a seven-year-old getting complimented by his favorite teacher and not a twenty-six-year-old man with a full-time job.

Louis huffed out a laugh before setting his focus on his phone screen, Liam and Zayn talking beside him and Niall laughing at a video from his own screen. He checked the time first, _7:08_ , before unlocking his iPhone, deciding he should probably check his unread texts and emails while he waits.

Louis sat there for a couple minutes, the background chatter of the busy room providing a nice white noise while he reads his emails. He opens a couple from the school - about Xavier’s class and his own job. A few miscellaneous ones from different stores sending him free coupons because ‘we appreciate you signing up for our rewards program!… Please enjoy this free coupon for your next visit!’. And a few spam emails from random usernames that he has to block.

When he finishes, Louis opens his Snapchat, tapping through friends’ stories before opening some of the news outlets’ updates - because yes, he’s plenty aware they’re usually not accurate (especially _Daily Mail_ ) but they’re entertaining, so why not.

He’s so engrossed with the latest update on Kim and Kanye’s relationship - something about Kanye wanting to run for president in the US for the 2020 election - that he doesn’t even hear the conference room door open and close, the chatter dissipating around him.

“ _Holy shit…”_ Niall, Liam, and Zayn all collectively mutter from beside him, causing Louis to furrow his eyebrows and click off his phone.

He doesn’t even get a chance to look up and figure out why everybody suddenly got so quiet, before there’s a deep voice echoing around the room, tone happy - excited maybe - and just a tad nervous, “Hello everyone. Very sorry for being so late, thank you all for being here for our first meeting. I guess I’ll introduce myself now. I’m--”

Louis doesn’t try to look up anymore, blocks out the rest of whatever the man is saying. He freezes instead, because Louis  _ knows _ that voice, recognizes it. Sure, it’s a little deeper now, but that’s to be expected after three years.

It’s definitely _that_ voice though, Louis knows with no uncertainty, because  he _fell asleep next to it_ for almost four years. He knows exactly who it is, and  _ fuck _ , it’s still so  _ familiar _ . Still makes his heart race and his chest constrict.

  
  
Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck,  _ fuck _ .

He doesn’t want to look up. Doesn’t want it to be true. He suddenly feels very sick, like could puke up his breakfast that morning. Breathing’s hard all of a sudden, and it feels like someone might possibly have their hand around his throat while memories flash through his head at lightning speed. He thinks of soft skin and gentle lips; soft sheets and warm beds; strong muscles and light giggles. _God_ , Louis wasn’t ready for this; doesn’t know if he ever would have been, if he could be.

Louis looks up anyway.

He’s right of course, because there was no possible way that he could be wrong when he could single that voice out of a crowd anywhere, and naturally, their eyes lock right away, like they’re drawn to each other, a magnetic pull. And just that second of eye contact before Louis looks away is enough for Louis to know he's fucked. So, so fucked, and not even close to in the good way.

The man still looks the same, but. Different. Obviously. His hair is shorter, not the same mop of curls he had in University, but it’s still wavy and free, definitely long enough to still be pulled into a man bun, albeit a small one. His skin is tanner than the last time Louis saw him, but it’s also the end of the summer, not the beginning like how it was before they parted ways, so that’s to be expected, Louis supposes. His jaw line is sharper, more prominent, and his eyes are still that perfect green, the color Louis’s always kinda wanted to just study. Set up an experiment and figure out the exact shade of them.

He’s more built too, has grown into his body perfectly. He’s still lanky, all long legs and thin thighs, but he’s broader. He’s been working out, definitely, and _fuck_ , Louis wasn’t fucking ready for this. His throat feels dry and his eyes burn just a little. This could be a problem maybe.

Right when their eyes meet, Harry’s breath hitches. He completely loses his train of thought, mouth slightly parted from the words he was gonna say. _Well good_ , Louis thinks, _at least he’s not the only one this is a total surprise to_. He's not the only one being ambushed, not the only one whose worlds are colliding, planets going up in flames. (Okay, so maybe Louis’s being a little dramatic, but he thinks he’s probably justified given the situation.)

Looking away doesn’t help much though, because he immediately catches the eyes of Liam, Niall, and Zayn - all looking at him with this _look_. Probably sympathy, Louis thinks. And they’ve probably been looking at him this whole time too, probably immediately snapped their eyes to Louis when they saw who walked into the room.

Louis looks away from them too. He can’t take it. The looks in their eyes - the worry and the surprise and the shock and the sympathy - makes it too real. Makes it too hard for Louis to pretend this is all a dream, that he’s going to wake up soon and get Xavier out of bed for breakfast.

Xavier. _Fuck_.

Louis’s knocked out of his thoughts when the voice continues, much more uncertain and careful than when he started. Louis risks one more glance up, only to see the boy he fell in love with all those years ago still looking at him while he speaks. Louis sinks down further in his chair, lowering his gaze and swallowing thickly. He wants to disappear.

-

As soon as Harry, _the new fucking principal_ , concludes the meeting at 7:35, wishing everybody a shaky good luck for the first day, Louis is out of there. He shoots out of his chair before anyone - Niall, Liam, Zayn, _Harry_ \- can say anything, and he’s practically sprinting down the corridor towards his classroom - _safety_ \- just trying to get far, far, far.

He flinches only for a second when he hears his name being called by the same deep voice he had been trying to escape, before continuing forward praying to the Lord above that he can just have this _one_ thing.

Of course, Louis’s not that lucky, and Harry speaks up again. He sounds closer. “Louis I know you can hear me. Can you turn around please? Can we talk?”

Louis does stop that time. The tone of his ex-boyfriend’s voice sounds so desperate and it breaks his heart a little. And gosh, _ex-boyfriend_ , that term doesn’t even do close to justice to what they were to each other. It makes Louis a little bitter, actually, to have everything they were locked up into a term so insignificant.

When Louis slowly turns around, Harry is only fifteen feet away, give or take, and his eyes just look so _broken_. Louis almost lets out a pitiful whimper because it really does break his heart, that look. _Almost_ though, he still has some dignity. Not much, but some.

Harry visibly relaxes when he sees that Louis has stopped running, but then his expression turns to worry as he takes Louis in. Louis must really look bad if Harry has that look trained on him.

“Louis--” Harry starts, just to be interrupted by Louis.

Louis holds his hand up to stop Harry, keeping him at a distance. Louis thinks if he gets any closer, he might faint. His knees feel weak. “I, I have to get to class. I’m sorry,” Louis stutters out as quick as possible, barely making it by without his voice breaking, and fuck, words are _hard_.

Harry’s face falls at that, but Louis doesn’t give it much thought. He doesn’t give much thought to Harry calling his name again and again as he close-to-sprints away either.

He barrels into his room, closing the door behind him immediately and resting his back against it, falling down the wall into a sitting position, knees to chest. He’s finally alone, finally free to react however he wants, at least in the fifteen minutes before his students will arrive.

Louis runs his hands through his hair a couple times, pulling at the strands - as if that will help, do anything except mess up his fringe - before resting his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees, squeezing his eyes shut and wishing more than anything this was all just a nightmare. “ _Fuck_.”

**_ii._ **

The second Monday of the 2020-2021 school year rolls around both exceedingly fast and excruciatingly slow. Louis had successfully avoided Harry all week, and the boys seemed to understand Louis wasn’t up for talking about it yet. Not that he didn’t want to (even though he didn’t) but he physically _couldn’t_.

So besides constantly worrying about turning the wrong corner at school and running into Harry, Louis’s week hasn’t been all that bad. Xavier was loving preschool, and of course having Niall as his teacher made it even better.

Friday night, Niall, Ally - who also happens to be Niall’s long-term girlfriend, and not just the daycare teacher at Little Harbor Primary; Liam, his fiancé Maya - who doubles as the school nurse too; Zayn, and his long-term, model girlfriend Gigi, all came over. Liam brought Bear too, his son whom he shares with his ex, who also happens to be Xavier’s best friend since birth, having been born just a couple months after Xavier.

They all played bored games with the two toddlers and ate snacks - an animated movie playing in the background on the screen in Louis’s flat - until they were put to bed in Xavier’s room around seven, when the adults pulled out the beer, settling down on the couch and covering the events of their week.

Louis figured the girls - whom he’d known for as long as he’d been working at Little Harbor, or since he moved here - already knew about Harry being back, if the sympathetic looks he was getting from them every couple of glances were anything to go by. And they haven’t ever actually met Harry, but they’ve spent enough nights with Louis throwing back shots at a bar trying to forget him to know who he is and what he means; have heard bits and pieces about him in stories Louis tells when he’s feeling a little reminiscent and just tipsy enough not to break down crying at the mere thought of him.

He also reminded himself to thank his best mates sometime though, for making it clear it wasn’t a subject to be brought up. He was beyond grateful for that.

Saturday was spent with Louis marking some of the spelling worksheets the second years had been given for easy review, along with taking Xavier out for icecream and then settling on the couch to watch Toy Story at just past five in the evening. Sunday was spent about the same.

And as great at the week before went (in retrospect, because it really wasn’t _great_ , just live-able), Monday was starting out quite shitty to be honest. Louis slept through his five forty-five AM alarm, only managing to get up by just past six because of his internal body clock that doesn’t let him sleep past half six most mornings.

He had exhaustedly and frantically thrown his covers off and climbed out of bed, deliriously pulling on a pair of black skinnies - of course - and a white tank, before trudging down the hall to Xavier’s room.

The toddler, naturally, picked today of all days to refuse to get out of bed. When Louis tried to pick him up and get his clothes on, the three-year-old had starting kicking and screaming, tears streaming out of his eyes.

Louis tried his best to keep it together, but he was stressed, and the only way he knew how to get his child to stop throwing a tantrum at 6:15 in the morning was yelling back. Of course, that didn’t work, only made him cry harder, and Louis instantaneously felt terrible. He hated yelling at Xavier, hated having to discipline him.

(He was honestly worried that when the boy hit his teens and was caught smoking his first joint, Louis wouldn’t be able to properly discipline the boy.

But that was a worry for future Louis.)

Louis had to force the pj’s off of Xavier, pulling on tiny joggers and a tiny hoodie onto his body while the boy kept wailing, fighting back however he could against his father and getting snot all over his clothes.

Luckily, eventually, when the clothes were on and they were in the kitchen, Xavier had calmed down a little after Louis had given him a bottle of milk. He was only sniffling now with his head pressed against Louis’s shoulder, drinking the milk out of his sippy cup while Louis rocked him in his arms, singing softly into his ear. Louis didn’t quite understand it, but his voice always calmed the toddler down.

When Louis’s stomach growled, he figured it was best to fix something for the two of them to eat before school, walking over to the table to set the toddler down. As soon as he bent over to set the boy in the seat though, Xavier immediately clung tighter to Louis’s shirt, burrowing his face into the fabric and whimpering. “Baby, I gotta put you down. We need to eat something love.” Louis cooed to his boy.

Xavier just shook his tiny head into Louis’s shoulder, mumbling, “Don’t want down Daddy. Want you to hold me.” His soft voice sounded shaky again, like he was going to start crying if Louis disagreed to hold the boy.

Louis straightened back up, nodding and running his free hand through his boy’s curls and placing a soft kiss on the boy’s hairline. “Okay love. That’s fine.”

Xavier sat up in his arms at that, giving his father a watery smile. Louis smiled back. It’d been a tough morning, but Louis loved when his toddler was extra clingy, just wanting to be held and given attention. One of the typical times it happens is right at the beginning of a new school year, when Louis is suddenly gone for the majority of the day, working while his boy attended school. Louis knew it was coming, his son would be wanting just a little extra time together eventually, and this was Xavier showing as much.

Louis walked over to the fridge then, opening it up to see what could be made, only to find the eggs were gone. He checked the cupboard next; they were out of cereal too. Louis closed the door and sighed, checking the time on the digital clock above the stove: _6:30_.

Louis gave up. He was already late, and there was no way he was going to make the weekly staff meeting on time. He didn’t want to see Harry anyway, so it really wasn’t a loss; he could miss one. It’d been a tough morning after all, and he was guessing him and Xavier could use a little break, “How about we go out for breakfast babe?”

Xavier nodded excitedly, kicking his legs, much happier now than a half hour ago.

-

Louis and Xavier had finished their breakfast at Bob Evans by seven-thirty, getting to the school by seven forty-five. He took Xavier on his hip down the preschool hallway to the boy’s classroom, handing him off to Niall and signing him in.

Niall gave Louis a look while he took Xavier in his arms, probably one that was meant to convey he was trying to ask why Louis had missed the meeting. Louis shook his head and just gave, “Tough morning,” as his excuse. Niall seemed to understand, backing down and nodding his head, giving Louis a soft smile before Louis was making his way back to his own classroom, welcoming the six-year-olds as they started to trickle in.

-

The day was quick for Louis. Lunchtime came and flew by, his students working on their craft of the day after their afternoon naps.

Soon enough the parents were coming to pick up their kids for the day, Louis cleaning off each table and tidying up each student’s space, putting toys back and cleaning the whiteboard after the students were gone.

And like, Louis loved his job. Loved working with little kids, getting to have a part in their education. He loved the school and the teachers. He loved everything about it. But despite that, he was excited to get out of the building as quick as possible; was excited for spending the night with his son, planning to go shopping and pick up lots of snacks before heading home, sitting on the couch with his toddler and watching movies, letting the boy cling to him as much as he wanted.

The only thing Louis was focused on was making his way to Niall’s room, picking up his toddler and going home for a nice night, which is probably why he wasn’t able to hide fast enough when Harry turned the corner, coming from the year four’s hall.

Harry looked up, locking eyes with Louis then, getting rid of all hope Louis had of being able to escape. He slowed his walking as Harry perked up, his smile growing just that much and his eyes bright. Louis sighed as he kept going, knowing there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t keep hiding forever. ( Or at least not anymore; he had been planning on trying, which was working brilliantly up until this point.)

“Lou,” Harry breathed when he got close enough to Louis, within a couple feet.

Louis immediately flinched at the nickname - it brought back too much too soon. Harry seemed to notice, finishing off his greeting with a stunted, “…- _is_.”

Louis didn’t say anything back. He barely knew how he was going to get through this conversation, let alone get coherent words out too. Harry seemed to understand. He always did. “We need to talk,” he started.

Louis hated those words; they were always bad.

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut for just a second, before untensing them. “I can’t, Harry.” He really, _really_ couldn’t. Not yet.

“Louis, please--”

“I _can't_ , Harry. It’s too much right now.” Louis pleaded, finally looking up into Harry’s perfectly green mesmerizing eyes.

Harry sighed, nodding and shifting his gaze to the right before looking back at Louis. “Alright. I understand. But there is something we actually do have to talk about. It has to do with school, I promise.”

Louis sighed and nodded. He knew what it was anyway.

“You missed the meeting this morning. You need to be at them. Liam said you don’t usually miss them unless you're sick. But you're here, so…”

Louis nods, shifting his gaze past Harry’s shoulder. “I know. I’m sorry. I just - we had a hard morning. We - just, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Harry looked confused for a moment, probably at the use of the plural pronoun. He looked like he was going to ask about it, but decided against it, just nodding his head instead. Louis let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

They stood in silence for a moment after that. It wasn’t completely awkward, but it wasn’t comfortable either. So Louis was grateful when he heard Niall speak, walking up to his side. He was so much less grateful when he realized who the leprechaun had in his arms. This was unimaginably worse than the awkward silence.

“Lou, I think you forgot something,” Niall started jokingly, bouncing the boy in his arms who giggled happily.

Louis tensed. This was bad. Really fucking bad. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_. (That seems to be Louis’s new favorite word.)

Xavier started squirming in Niall’s arms, totally unaware to what was happening and how much this moment was most probably going to affect his life, and Louis’s not even being dramatic this time. Harry’s eyes instantly brightened when he saw the boy in Niall’s arms, cooing over him and sticking his hand out to tickle the boy’s tummy, only eliciting more laughter out of the toddler.

Harry popped a smile at that, a real genuine one, dimple and all, and Louis’s heart ached. He hasn’t seen that dimple in years.

“Who’s this little guy?” Harry asked, focusing his attention on the toddler while he smiles brightly at the boy, tickling him some more.

When Louis didn’t speak right away, Harry turned his attention to Louis then, patiently waiting for an answer, raising an eyebrow. Of course, the shift in attention from Harry to Louis made Xavier shift his attention too, reminding him his father was there. Xavier started squirming in Niall’s hands again.

“Daddy!” he exclaimed, making grabby hands at Louis.

Harry’s eyes immediately widened at that, recoiling and drawing his hand back in shock - like he’d been burned - and gaping at the toddler in front of him while Louis flinched, taking his son from a now-worried Niall’s arms and bouncing him on his hip.

Welp, half the secret’s out.

Harry is speechless - understandably so, - doesn’t know what to say, just trying to process the last twenty seconds of his life. Louis is distracting himself, not making eye contact with anyone but his son. That was safe territory, playing with his son’s hand and cooing at the boy.

Harry just stood there, looking back and forth between Louis, the toddler that now suddenly belongs to Louis, Niall, and back to Louis again. His mouth opened and closed, searching for something to say, how to react until finally he got words out. “...D-daddy? He - said - I - _daddy_?” Harry croaks.

Louis squeezes his eyes shut, still facing towards his boy, opening them again and absentmindedly entertaining the toddler on his hip.

He really was going to answer - look up into Harry’s eyes and give something more than one word, but Louis gets lost in awe of his boy, playing with his hand and eliciting little giggles from the boy’s lips while the toddler clings to his dad. When he remembers he was asked something, has to answer somehow, Louis doesn’t take his eyes off his boy, quite literally, his world. When he finally speaks, it’s a happy, content sigh of a word; the fondest Louis - or maybe anyone - has ever sounded; a light, “ _yeah,_ ”. Because no matter how hard this conversation is, how hard it’s going to be, Louis wouldn’t trade anything in the world for the boy in his arms. Not a single fucking thing.

Harry doesn’t respond for a moment, but Louis knows it’s because he's thinking. He doesn’t blame him; it’s a lot to take in. “How - how old is he?”

Louis sighs heavily, still playing with his son’s hand and not meeting anyone else’s eyes. “Three and a half,” he eventually murmurs, soft and quiet.

Harry takes an audible intake of breath at that, and Niall is silent beside Louis, rather awkwardly standing there, but Louis knows why. Niall shouldn’t have to be part of this conversation. They both know where it’s going. He’s just being a good friend, staying instead of letting Louis deal with his own shit situation.

Eventually Harry speaks again, thinking carefully about each word before he talks, like he always has. He chokes out the next few words though, his voice strained. If you know him well, you know he’s getting close to tears. Louis knows him well.

“Who - who’s the other father?”

Louis immediately shoots his head up, taking his focus off his boy and putting it on the man in front of him, eyes cold and defensive. The word spills out before he can stop it, voice snappy.

“Niall’s.”

There’s a look of hurt in Harry’s eyes at that, not because he believes Louis - he doesn’t, not in the slightest - but because he knows Louis is scared to tell him the truth, which Harry thinks might be worse. Meanwhile Niall is sputtering, the words not coming out of his mouth quick enough, “What?!” the Irish lad gapes.  
  


Louis doesn’t respond to Niall, just keeps staring into Harry’s eyes, Harry staring right back, green eyes soft now. He’s quiet too, just trying to form words until his voice comes back. “ _Lou_ ,” He finally chokes out, voice actually breaking this time, eyes glassy.

Louis repeats himself firmly, “It’s Niall’s.”

And Niall knows better than to get in the way of this, stepping back and just continuing to watch, shaking his head just _slightly_ disappointingly. 

Harry drops his head then, shaking it - his shorter curls flying around like a halo. He looks back up at Louis, “He’s _three_ ,” he whispers out, voice cracking again.

Louis doesn’t respond then either. Harry keeps their eye contact, making sure Louis can’t wimp out or look away and says with a wavering voice, “He’s got my _hair... …_ and my _eyes. Louis.”_

Louis still doesn’t say anything, just looks away finally, over Xavier’s head and out the doors attached to the hallway they’re in, the parking lot empty now. He swallows, but it doesn’t get rid of the lump in his throat. Louis finally looks back at Harry, his own eyes glassy now, tears threatening to spill by just the look in the brunette’s eyes.

“I have to go, I’m sorry,” Louis finally gets out, beginning to back up.

Harry reaches out for him, a tear falling now, “No. _Lou_ ,” he tries.

Louis shakes his head, repeating himself, “I’m _sorry_.” His voice breaks. Dammit.

Xavier looks up to his father then, concern etched onto his tiny face and eyebrows furrowed in a pout, “Daddy? Are you ‘kay?” the boy wonders, clinging tighter to his father.

Louis nods, giving his boy a watery smile and turning around, away from Niall, away from Harry. “Daddy’s fine baby.”

-

Louis watches as Niall walks back down the hallway and towards the living room after closing the door to Xavier’s room. He gives Louis a soft smile as he approaches, “Okay, he’s down for his nap, bottle and all. “

Louis sends his best mate a grateful, small, sad smile as the brunette sits on the couch in front of him. Niall doesn’t say anything else once he’s sat, just let’s Louis speak at his own pace.

It’s quiet for a couple fleeting moments, the sound of cars passing and dogs barking outside the only noise. Then finally Louis gets his nerve. Or loses it maybe; he doesn’t know which. He breaks though. He lets himself feel for the first time since he left the school with a worried Xavier in his arms less than an hour ago, a hurting and confused Harry somewhere in the building still.

Or maybe for the first time since Harry, quite literally, walked back into his life. When he turned Louis’s world upside down - or really just flipped it a couple times, kicked it around like a football just in case, and if that wasn’t enough, threw everything Louis had grown accustomed to in the last three and some odd years out the window.

The water works come quick, streaming down Louis’s face while he leans forward, burrows himself in the cotton of Niall’s shirt. “He wasn’t supposed to find _out_ ,” Louis whimpers into Niall’s chest. “He wasn’t supposed to come _back_.”

Louis lets of a small sob, lets the words sink in fully. Niall is immediately wrapping his arms around the slightly smaller man, pulling him to his body and holding him tight. “Oh Lou,” Niall comforts, hugging Louis tighter and letting the man cry into his shoulder. “ _I’m so sorry_.”

**_iii._ **

Louis was up at five forty-five the next day, but not because of his alarm. No, he was woken up by pots and pans banging in the kitchen, the sounds of little giggles and cackling coming from down the hall.

Louis sighed, getting out of the warm bed and finding a pair of Adidas joggers to pull on, grabbing a green hoodie to match. He walked into the bathroom discreetly, so as not to disturb whatever happiness was going on in the kitchen, brushing his teeth, running a brush through his hair quickly, and taking a piss.

When he was done, he walked out to the kitchen, trying to figure out what was going on, only to see the kitchen in peril - powdered sugar thrown every which way and dirty utensils and pans strewn about, the two culprits covered in what looked like pancake batter and giggling to themselves. Apparently, they found this very amusing.

“Hey, Lou,” Niall greets with a bright smile when he hears Louis walk in, Xavier in the leprechaun’s arms, happy as can be.

“Daddy!” the toddler shouts when he catches sight of his father walking into the war zone of a kitchen, beaming happily, “We’re making pancakes!”

Louis chuckles as he walked over to his boy, taking him out of Niall’s arms and holding Xavier on his own hip while he presses a kiss to the boy’s hair line, “I can see that babe. What’s the mess for though? That couldn’t be you right?” Louis questions, being faux stern with the toddler in his arms.

Xavier shakes his head vigorously, “I dunno, Daddy. Wasn’t me, promise,” the boy beams, feigning innocence, giggling a little bit when Louis raises an eyebrow at him.

Louis keeps his mock-stern look, reaching his free hand up to wipe the batter off Xavier’s nose, “Somehow I find that hard to believe Bub.”

Xavier just giggles, nestling his head against Louis’s shoulder. Louis sighs happily.

“So, what’s for breakfast?” Louis askes as he holds his boy to himself, looking out over the array of foods spread out in the kitchen.

“Everything,” Niall smiles, pouring some batter into the pan on the stove.

-

Louis got to the school at the same time as every other day: ten till seven. Niall had driven with Louis today, given that they lived in the same flat complex and Niall was already over. When Louis parked, Niall climbed out, opening the rear door and picking up the excited three-year-old.

The three of them walked to Louis’s classroom, Niall setting Xavier down on one of the play mats after the door had been closed, letting the boy crawl and walk about. Niall took a seat in Louis’s desk chair, spinning himself around while Louis tidied up.

“So…” Niall starts.

“So…?” Louis prompts, wiping off the last of the desks before going over to the small library in the room, rearranging the books in neat rows.

Niall seems apprehensive to speak, which is something that almost never happens. Louis sighs, “What is it Ni? I’m a big boy, I can take it.”

Niall still struggles. “What are you gonna do about - erm… Harry?”  
  


Louis sighs again, staying quiet as he fixes the last shelf of books before turning around and plopping down on the ground behind Xavier, playing with one of the boy’s toys while the boy entertains himself in front of him.

“Lou…”

Louis pulls Xavier into his lap, holding the boy close to him, “I don’t know.” He doesn’t look up, keeps all of his attention on his boy.

“Oh, well that’s helpful,” Niall answers, voice laced with sarcasm.

Louis glares at him, “You’re not helping,” he deadpans, going back to playing with the Barbie Xavier had in his hand.

Niall holds his hands up in surrender, standing up from the desk chair and walking over to his best mate and godson. “Well,” Niall starts, picking the boy up, “I’m gonna take this little guy to class--” he boops Xavier on his nose, eliciting giggles - “and _you_ , are going to figure that out.”

Louis stands up too, Niall leaning over, so Xavier’s head is closer to Louis. “Bye baby,” Louis says, kissing his boy on the forehead before Niall is retreating towards the classroom door, yelling out one more, “Goodluck!” before he’s gone.

-

The day goes relatively well. There aren’t any accidents with the students, the lesson is easy enough, and Louis is as relaxed as possible. The kids leave in clumps, excited to go back home to their own families, and before Louis knows it, he’s alone. He takes extra time to pack up, thoroughly cleaning each table once and then again.

He’s dreading walking out of the classroom. Not because he doesn’t want to see his son. More than anything in the world he does - just wants to take the toddler home and ignore all other responsibilities in his life. No, he’s dreading it because he knows the chances of him getting out of here without being stopped by one Harry Styles are nil to none.

Louis finally decides enough is enough, having finished marking the small stack of spelling quizzes, and at a quarter till four, the majority of students having been gone for almost an hour now. He grabs another stack of papers to grade, walking towards the door and shutting off the lights before he’s exiting the room, no further excuses to keep him.

He walks down the two of the three corridors it takes to get to the preschool hall, antsy and just waiting to hear his name called from behind. When he sees the double glass doors at one of the entrances, just off the end of the preschool rooms, he’s hopeful. Just grab Xavier and go. He’s almost there, he could make it.

How naïve of him.

Just as he’s getting to the last of the rooms at the end of the hall - Niall’s being the closest classroom to the exit doors - a voice speaks up behind him.

Louis jumps when he hears it, freezing before turning around. He’s met with Harry, who is partially jogging just to catch Louis before he can escape. And Louis would be offended that Harry thinks of him as such a runner, if it wasn’t true, but for now, he can't really blame the curly headed man.

Louis stays where he is, letting Harry make his way to him and slumping his shoulders in defeat. When he does get there, they’re quiet for a moment, Harry waiting for Louis to speak first, and Louis doing the same for him.

Harry caves. “We need to talk.”

Louis nods his head, looking away at nothing in particular before meeting Harry’s green eyes again. _God, they’re beautiful._ “Okay,” he sighs out.

Harry looks skeptical, “Okay?” he draws out the word.

Louis nods. Better to get it over with now. “Okay. Follow me in your car, I guess. Unless you wanna walk, but I don’t recommend that.”

Harry still looks incredulous, but he nods anyway, ignoring the last bit of Louis’s response.

Louis nods one more time too, probably trying to reassure himself more than Harry if anything, before he turns around, continuing out the doors to the parking lot and past Niall’s room without stopping.

They make their way to their cars separately, Louis climbing in his own well-used Chevy Impala and Harry climbing into his drastically more luxurious 2016 black Range Rover. Louis sits in his car for a moment, trying to get the anxiety in his stomach to go away.

When he finally does, at least to a certain extent (as calm as he’s gonna get, he decides), he starts his car, pulling out his phone and shooting a text to Niall first, before pulling out of the parking lot, only checking once to see if Harry is behind him.

-

Louis pulls up to the curb in front of his flat ten minutes later, Harry right behind him and parking on the side opposite the building. They climb out of their cars wordlessly, Louis walking up to the front door and assuming Harry is right behind him. He is.

Louis twists the key in the door, pushing it open to the flat, letting Harry follow him in. “Couch,” he instructs to the man, gesturing towards the living room before walking straight to the kitchen, not waiting for a response from Harry. Fuck _, Harry is in his flat._

Louis feels an even greater need now to find the wine, calm his nerves that he knows are only going to spike as this conversation continues. He walks over to a cupboard, opening it up to where he knows the alcohol is, pulling out his strongest bottle of red. He grabs a glass too, closing the cabinet and walking back out to the living room.

Harry is still sitting there, obviously, and Louis figured he would be, but a small part of him was kind of wishing he’d be gone, chicken out and give Louis more time to prepare for this. More than the three and a half years he’s already had. Right. Harry was there though, sitting on the end closest to the door and just waiting for Louis.

He was drawn into himself too, shoulders tight so as to take up as little space as possible, and head bowed while he played with his fingernails. It was the position he took up when he was timid, trying to make his long body seem as inconsequential as possible. He resembled how he looked back in Uni, Louis thinks. How fitting.

Louis finally enters, walking around the back of the couch and sitting on the cushion, a few feet between him and Harry. He sets the glass down on the coffee table, popping the cap off the wine, all the while Harry watching on silently, probably confused as to why Louis is drinking at four forty-five in the afternoon.

Louis takes a breath, staring at the glass before he picks it up, filling it to the brim with the red liquor.

He downs the whole thing in four gulps. Harry looks stunned.

When Louis sets the glass down, he turns, finally facing Harry, nodding his head, “Okay. You can start.”

Harry just looks unsure, keeps flicking his gaze disbelievingly between Louis and the bottle of red. Louis raises an eyebrow at him then, and Harry opens his mouth cautiously.

He’s always been bad at answering Louis when he has all of the slightly older man’s attention is the thing, doesn’t want to mess up and disappoint him. And maybe it’s too late for that to matter now, but Harry still wants to please him, make him happy.

Wants Louis to smile, bright and crinkle eyed.

Harry finally strings some words together. “Erm, where. Where’s uh, your… um, son? Yeah? Yeah.” He nods. “Where’s your son?”

Louis sighs, filling another glass of wine, because yes, he needs it. “Xavier’s with Niall for the night. He and Ally took him back with them, which is really here I guess - because they live in this complex too - but they’re a couple flats down.” Louis explains slowly, keeping his focus on his filling glass, concentrating intently on making sure it doesn’t fizz.

Harry nods, looking around the room and rubbing his palms on the thighs of his jeans before returning his gaze to Louis. “He - he’s mine, right? He is? Xavier?"

Louis sips down half of his next glass, doesn’t really technically answer the question, instead decides to start at the beginning. He figures that’s the most logical place to begin after all. “I found out after you left,” Louis starts, lifting his head and making eye contact with the man in front of him. His voice doesn’t hold much emotion really, which is Louis’s intention, but Harry can hear the small bit of resentment anyway, can easily hear the deep-seated amount of pain that’s laced ever so subtly between the words.

“It was probably a week or two after graduation, after you were gone. Honestly, I wasn’t going to keep him at first, as crazy an idea as that seems to me now. I was twenty-three and fresh out of college, applying for jobs, I didn’t need a baby too.

“I went to the first appointment though, just to see. I was scared as fuck. You have to understand that, Harry. I was scared and I wasn’t ready to care for a child, let alone by myself. Got all situated in the examination room though and the nurse let me hear his heartbeat, and I just _couldn’t_. There was no way I could possibly get rid of the little baby inside me.” Louis’s throat is tightening a little.

_God_ , he couldn’t have lived with himself if he had aborted Xavier. He gets why other’s do it, he does; he respects their choices wholeheartedly and he would never judge someone because he knows how personal that decision is, almost made it himself. But Xavier is his world, couldn’t imagine it without the toddler. Doesn’t ever want to. Louis takes a shaky breath, “S-so I didn’t. I stuck it out, by myself mostly - e-except Liam and Niall and Zayn were all there. My mum was too--” _Fuck_. His voice breaks again and the first tear falls - just the first droplets of the dam that’s waiting to burst behind the blue of his irises - because his mum’s gone now too, and this conversation is just another reminder of that horrible fucking truth, one he can't do anything to fix.

Louis continues, but he’s given up on trying not to cry. Harry’s crying too anyway, tears rolling down his cheek like he doesn’t even notice. “And - I had him at the end of the year. I was already t-two months when I found out - only carried him for seven after you were gone. But I had him, and… here we are,” Louis finishes, gesturing his hand over the area around them. His voice is shaky, breaking every couple of words and he _hates_ it.

  
Harry isn’t any better though. He’s crying, silent tears streaming down his face while he listens. He’s quiet too, probably processing everything.

Louis is kind enough to grant him the silence for that; it’s a lot to take in, he knows. Being a father, sharing a child with the love of your life who hasn’t been _in_ your life for years. It’s a whole fucking lot.

Harry finally speaks up though, after taking a shaky breath and parting his lips to talk. “Why didn’t you _tell_ me. I deserved to know, Lou.”

Louis squeezes his eyes shut. He’s always hated hearing Harry crying; his voice wasn’t _meant_ for the grief. It was meant for laughing and telling jokes and being _happy_. And Harry doesn’t even sound mad, just hurt and damaged.

But he squeezes his eyes shut tighter, won’t let himself cave to Harry’s broken voice. Louis has every right to be pissed. “I fucking _tried_ Harry. As soon as I found out, I tried to tell you. But you weren’t fucking there. I tried to tell your mum too, thought maybe she could tell you, if you were just going to ignore me. But she said she didn’t even know you had _left_. Gemma, your sister, the person you’re closer to than quite possibly _anyone_ , said the same. I tried for _months_ Harry, to find some way to tell you, and you never fucking answered. I was on my own with this, so don’t fucking _tell_ me you _deserved_ something. You lost any rights for that when you left. You’re lucky I’m even fucking giving it a chance right now.” Louis spits out, and he’s fuming, utterly pissed.

This is the conversation he imagined a hundred times over in his head: Finally getting to yell at Harry, scream at him, ask why he wasn’t good enough. So not enough that Harry completely ignored him once he left. Wants to make Harry hurt as much as Louis had.

Harry’s silent now, looking away from Louis; has no idea how to respond. Louis let’s out a breathy, verging on manic laugh. “Wow, you can't even fucking say anything Harry. _God_.”

Harry looks up, eyes glazed over in a layer of tears threatening to fall and rimmed red. “ _Lou_ \--” He lets out, choking on a cut off sob and voice breaking wretchedly.

Louis looks down, shakes his head. This is too much for him.

When Harry doesn’t get a response, he speaks again, tone softer, “Louis. _Louis_.”

Louis looks up finally, drawing in a shaky breath and making eye contact with Harry, looking into his eyes like he’s reading him, a book only Louis can understand.

They let out slow, labored breaths, making constant, vulnerable eye contact, just waiting for whatever it is they're searching for, and then something changes, just _clicks_ in both of them, like they’ve come to some understanding.

And like, it’s not much, not in the least, but it’s _something_ , something they’ve both been searching for inadvertently for the last four years. As if they feel lighter, like the pain is manageable and the hurt is dwindling - slowly but surely, it’s subsiding, and _fuck_ if that isn’t the most raw, visceral use of the phrase; _slowly but surely_. And it’s making room for something else. And they’re _desperate_ ; they need comfort, the type of comfort they know can only come from the other.

He’s not really sure when, but at some point, Louis’s gaze shifts from Harry’s green irises to the soft pink lips somewhere under them. Ones he remembers so well. Louis can't take his eyes off them, focusing on the creases where they’ve been cracked from the cold and how they disappear when Harry slowly, almost absentmindedly, licks his lips, gaze still intent on Louis.

Fucking hell.

Harry leans forward cautiously. Louis finds he is too.

They’re leaning and leaning and - _finally_. They’re lips brush. Just barely, just enough for a taste, but it’s plenty, enough to remind the pair of what they’ve been missing and craving. Louis sighs contentedly, face still mere centimeters from Harry’s and minty breath fanning over Harry’s lips, leaving the ghost of him there.  
  
 _It’s not enough_.

Their lips brush again, almost as soft as the first time, and it’s only for a second - so short Louis thinks he might have imagined it. Harry leans back, studying Louis’s face, trying to read his expression. Their eyes meet only for a second, long enough for both of them to share this _look_ , and it’s like their having a conversation with their eyes, understanding springing from the blue and green irises.

This time it’s Louis who leans in, pecking Harry softly and drawing back just far enough, focus set on the other man’s mouth, and then leaning in again. And again. …And again. Until slowly they’re licking into the other’s mouth, letting themselves relax and be _vulnerable_ , so exposed and defenseless to the man across from them, eyes closing heavenly at the feeling.

It’s slow and sensual, Louis reveling in the feel of the soft lips on his, exploring the man’s mouth for the first time in years. It all so _soft_ , the way they’re holding each other, Louis’s hands fisting Harry’s jumper and Harry clinging to the back of Louis’s neck, not allowing him to get away.

Louis needs more. He needs to feel Harry, skin on skin contact, needs the feeling of Harry’s hands to anchor him. So he climbs onto his knees, slowly and carefully, maintaining contact between their lips; Louis wouldn’t dare let go. Louis straddles him, wrapping his strong thighs around Harry’s waist where the slightly younger man is leaning back against the couch arm.

Harry whines at the pressure of Louis on him, all too much and not enough. He presses his lips firmer to Louis’, seeking anything, just wants to feel close. Louis clings tighter to Harry, like if he lets up his grip any, the curly headed man will disappear, and the soft and needy press of their lips together is perfect, grounding. It’s not restless and demanding. It’s desperate, but in a soft way, like they can't get enough of the other’s lips. Like the other is a drug and they just need more, have to have it, dose after dose.

It’s innocent, the way they are with each other right now. Trusting. The way their lips glide together feels slow, like how the intimate scenes slow down in a movie, and the tingly feeling is spreading everywhere, all over their bodies, nerve endings on fire.

But Louis needs more still. Harry needs more. They’re panting, searching for some kind of friction from each other. Louis’s grinding his hips down ever so slightly, Harry rutting his hips up just enough, barely detectable.

Louis gasps against Harry’s lips when Harry drives up a little rougher, giving Louis enough friction to not be able to wait any longer. He drops his head against one of Harry’s broad shoulders. “Bedroom,” he rasps, voice thick with arousal. He wants it so bad, needs Harry so bad.

Harry is just nodding in response, nudging Louis’s head back up and connecting their lips again in a wet kiss. He stands up, Louis cradled in his arms, and walks away from the couch, sun giving a warm glow to the room as it begins to set outside. He blindly makes his way down the hallway, holding Louis up by the soft flesh of his arse, pressing their bodies together.

Harry enters the first bedroom - just past the bathroom - the one that belongs to Louis. He walks in, kissing Louis languidly and kicking the door shut behind them blindly. He walks over to queen size mattress set in the middle of the wall, laying Louis down gently on it.

Louis cranes his neck up from the bed immediately, has to keep his mouth to Harry’s, has to. Harry pulls back, only for a second though, kicking off his shoes, letting them land haphazardly on the wood floor under them. He leans back in then, crawling easily onto the mattress and into the space where Louis has slotted his thighs. He captures Louis’s mouth, lips biting and tongues intertwining with each other. Louis wraps his legs around Harry’s hips, tightening his hold and pulling Harry flush against them.

Each movement is slow and almost calculated, neither of them in any rush, small whimpers and moans coming from both of them. They’re just living in the moment and basking in the feeling of it all, like a high they never want to come down from.

At some point Louis peels Harry’s shirt off and Harry does the same to him, throwing it on the ground before slotting their lips together again. Harry grips Louis’s joggers and yanks them down Louis’s body when Louis lets out a demand of, “Off, off, off,”, shrugging out of his own jeans until they’re left in only their boxers, both of them straining against the fabric of the Calvin Klein’s.

Harry places himself between Louis’s thighs again, his hands steadying him where they're placed on either side of the man’s head. Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s neck, pulling him further into him and ruts against his body just slightly, whining out under Harry when it’s not enough, eyebrows furrowing and trying to verbalize what he wants, “ _Harry_.”

Harry understands perfectly, of course. He bends down one more time, pressing a quick peck to Louis’s lips, before holding himself back up, grinding down onto Louis’s body and rubbing their cocks together through the fabric. “Got you Lou,” Harry promises, rutting down again.

“Mmmm - _fuck_ ,” Louis moans, head lolling back as he cants his hips up to meet Harry’s. Harry ruts against him, ducking his head and burrowing it in Louis’s collarbones, right above his _‘It Is What It Is’_ tattoo, before he starts mouthing at the skin under Louis’s jaw.

“More, _please_ ,” Louis whimpers, whining into the strong ruts of Harry’s snapping hips.

Harry nods, slowing down the speed of his thrusts until it’s gone. He pulls off Louis, sliding Louis’s precum stained boxers down his strong thighs and pulling his own off too, throwing them into the pile of clothes already on the floor.

  
They’re finally both naked, their hard cocks no longer straining against the fabric and instead hard and flushed against their stomachs, and Louis’s cock gives a twitch just at the sight of Harry; his perfectly tanned skin and the collection of tattoos he's added in the last few years; his broad shoulders and biceps that could easily pin Louis down and just take him; the thought makes Louis whine helplessly and reach up for Harry, making grabby hands as he tries to get him to start up again.

Harry doesn’t dive back down just yet though. He stays upright and admires the boy in front of him, wonders how he ever let him go. He should have fought harder, he thinks, the ache in his chest volumizing. He bends back down determinedly at that thought - that he didn’t fight hard enough - quickly lining up his and Louis’s cocks, rubbing the skin together and eliciting groans of pleasure from the man under him. He mouths at his jaw, then his collarbones. “So beautiful,” he promises, Louis preening at the praise under him.

He keeps going, moving farther down. He sucks kisses into the skin in the middle of his chest, moving to Louis’s nipples, oversensitive, hardened nubs by now, and licks over them, pulling back to blow cool air over both, drawing a shiver from Louis’s body. He switches back and forth between left and right for a couple minutes, licking around the areola and then pulling the flushed skin into his mouth with his teeth, letting go of it with a pop and blowing cool air over the heated skin.

He goes lower, keeps mouthing and sucking and marking the man’s body, leaving little love bites in his wake. He gets to the middle of his torso, mouthing there before continuing, sucking at the slight pudge of Louis’s tummy - a place Louis’s always been self-conscious about, especially after he had Xavier and couldn’t quite get it to go away, even after hours and hours in the gym. “So, so gorgeous. Love your tummy Lou.” He kisses again at the skin.

Louis preens at the praise, basking in the way Harry makes him feel, how he always knows how to compliment the man. Louis gets impatient thinking about just how perfect Harry is, how he’s always worshipped Louis and made him feel gorgeous. Just the thought of Harry knowing exactly what he needs drives him crazy and he pulls Harry back up and presses their lips together once again, needs the skin-on-skin contact.

Harry indulges him, licking into his mouth and letting either of them explore for a couple moments, become familiar with the sweet taste again, before he pulls off with a pop and one more peck to Louis’s swollen and pink lips.

He ventures back down, towards Louis’s legs, and Louis is just about to protest, hard and flushed and frustrated, when Harry takes him into his mouth without warning, sucking just at the tip. Louis’s head flies back against the pillows under his head, letting out a shaky moan and bucking up just slightly into the warm heat of Harry’s tight mouth. Harry moves his obscenely large hands to Louis’s hips, squeezing in a way that isn’t painful, but will probably leave marks, and keeps Louis from bucking up into his mouth again. 

Harry keeps going, taking Louis’s response as permission. He teases the head, placing kitten licks to the tip and tonguing at the slit, knowing how much it riles Louis up. Louis whines when he might cry if he doesn’t get more and Harry indulges him finally, taking him into his mouth fully, sucking him down while he uses his hand for what his mouth can't quite reach; Louis is big after all.

He keeps taking him deeper and deeper before experimentally before pulling off, licking at Louis’s cock slit and diving back in. Louis is mewling above him, writhing under his body weight and Harry has to use his hands to keep him still. Louis’s thighs are shaking at the sensation, moans escaping his mouth with every suck of Harry’s obscene lips on his dick. As if Harry can read when he needs more, he takes Louis all the way in, cock hitting the back of his throat but just _taking it_. Harry swallows around him while he breathes through his nose, Louis slamming his fist into the bedsheets and fisting them, moaning out a throaty, “ _Fuckkkk_ ,”

Harry does it again, gaining a similar reaction, and Louis keeps moaning above Harry, trying his best not to buck up into the warm heat of Harry’s mouth until he’s getting too close. He pulls Harry off him frantically, grabbing at the back of his neck and pulling him closer when Harry keeps mouthing at his cock. It was always one of his favorite things, sucking Louis off. “Please. _Harry_. Want you in me. Don’t wanna come yet.”

Harry lets out a shaky breath at that, steeling himself when his cock gives an excited twitch just as Louis’s words, and he nods his head, kissing Louis one more time and Louis can taste himself on Harry’s tongue and it’s _everything_. “Lube?”

Louis nods, squeezing his eyes shut at the sensation coursing through his body, how wrecked Harry’s voice is because of _him_ , holding off his orgasm as best he can. “Top drawer. Condoms too,” Louis croaks out, squeezing at the base of his cock to keep himself from coming untouched right now.

Harry nods, balancing his body weight on his left side and reaching his right arm out to open the nightstand table, grabbing around blindly before his hand lands on plastic wrappers and a bottle. He pulls them out, pushing the drawer back closed, before sitting back and opening the container.

Louis pants under him, staring at Harry with glassy eyes and just waiting. Harry finally coats three of his fingers, warming up the cool substance by rubbing his fingertips together, and nudging Louis’s legs open just that much further, before his fingers are trailing the curve of his arse, looking for his hole.

He dances his finger over the rim as Louis gasps, hole puckering with want. “Harry, _please_ ,” Louis pleads, writhing and practically gagging for it, for Harry.

“I know baby. I got you,” he reassures, not teasing anymore and pushing a finger past Louis’s rim, just to the first knuckle as he feels Louis clench around him.

Louis groans a little at the stretch and Harry reaches his left hand out to rub at his hipbone soothingly, the way he always used to when Louis got himself too worked up and couldn’t untense himself enough to take Harry’s fingers. “Relax, love.”

Louis does, just at the words, and he spreads his legs open farther, focusing on the growing pleasure rather than the decreasing pain. Harry waits until Louis is adjusted to his first, before adding another finger, pumping them in and out at a steady pace.

“Look gorgeous like this Lou, taking my fingers so well, not even complaining.” Louis just preens, whining and whimpering as he clenches around Harry’s fingers. “More Haz, need more. Fuck - _please_. Want your fingers, need them H.”

Harry complies, slipping a third finger into Louis’s tight hole and stretching him open, letting the tight walls around his digits relax and stretch enough so he’ll be able to fit his cock inside. He crooks his fingers into Louis every couple of thrusts, letting Louis get used to the size.

Eventually Louis is rocking back against the three, letting out cut off moans with his mouth open in pleasure, eyes rolled back under his open lids. The fingers in him are _so_ close to the spot he needs them, but every time he thinks Harry’s finally gonna finally hit it, he crooks his fingers, just barely, and Louis’s starting to think he might be doing this on purpose, teasing him. When Harry misses his prostate one more time, Louis whines, pushing down on Harry fingers needily, “ ‘M ready Haz, just. Fuck me, _please_.”

Harry smiles down at the man, pulling his fingers out, pressing a quick kiss to Louis’s sweaty forehead as the man just looks up at him, dazed and delirious with want. _Always so polite._

Harry sits back, carefully opening the condom he pulled out of the nightstand and sliding it onto his length, pumping it a few times and lubing it up.

He lines himself up with Louis’s hole when he’s ready, the man’s already panting and waiting under him. He looks up at Louis one more time, searching his eyes for any uncertainty, wants to make sure Louis is sure; he doesn’t find any. Harry gives a small squeeze to Louis’s hand before he nudges in, just the tip, and lets Louis adjust to his size.

Louis’s breath hitches as Harry enters, trying to relax himself so it’s easier. He knows it’s gonna feel good, feel amazing, it’s just been so long and Harry’s _big_ , like fucking _huge,_ and it’s a lot to take after so long not having anything in him, not even his own fingers occasionally.

Harry slowly nudges deeper, letting Louis adjust with each movement, waiting to inch forward again until he gets a nod. When Harry finally bottoms out, both he and Louis let out a sigh, Harry dropping his head onto Louis’s chest and waiting.

Louis speaks up once he’s adjusted, voice slightly strained and Harry can feel his cock hard against his stomach, pulsing with want. “M’kay, can move now. Please.”

Harry takes the opportunity, slowly pulling out of Louis and then pressing in just as carefully right after. They both let out shaky moans as they rock, Harry’s head burrowed in Louis’s neck. “So fucking tight Lou. Fuck, love fucking you baby, giving you my cock.”

“ _Please_ ,” Louis moans in response, nodding vehemently and trying to cant his hips up against Harry’s, add to the pooling pleasure in his tummy. “Faster,” Louis gasps out, needing Harry to reach that one spot.

Harry immediately obeys, snapping his hips and increasing the speed of his thrusts, harder, harder, harder. They’re both moaning almost pornographically, loud and clear, grinding into each other, and Harry gives a particularly sharp thrust, angling his hips just right and hitting a spot. Louis lets out a loud, sharp moan, can feel his orgasm building and building, and he goes completely pliant under Harry. “Fff _ffuck_ ,” Louis moans, gripping onto Harry’s shoulders and then his back, dragging his nails down the taught muscles.

“Like that baby? Like taking me deep? Not being able to do anything about it love?” Harry taunts, thrusts the same again, angling himself and pressing into Louis deep, aiming for the same spot. He knows he finds it when Louis lets out another loud moan, filling up the empty flat. Louis gasps, “ _Fuck_ Haz. Not gonna last.”

“Me neither sweetheart,” Harry nods, leaning in for a kiss before he pulls back, lifting a hand to Louis’s aching and hard cock and tugging on it furiously, in time with his thrusts, chasing his own orgasm as he keeps thrusting hard and sure into Louis’s arse.

It only takes a few tight tugs and a particularly hard thrust from Harry, hitting Louis’s prostate dead on, for Louis to come undone, come splattering long and warm white streaks all over his tummy. Harry isn’t long after him; Louis’s arse clenching around his prick has him spilling long and hard inside Louis, continuing to tug on Louis’s softening dick until he gets too sensitive and thrusting into him to get them through their highs.

They both slump against each other when they come down, panting heavily and energy gone, eyelids heavy with the post-sex haze.

At some point Harry gets up, walking out to Louis’s bathroom and coming back with a warm rag, wiping the drying come off Louis and himself. When he’s done and they're both clean, he throws the dirty rag off the bed, landing somewhere around the previously warn clothes, wrapping himself around a sleepy Louis, and both of them fall asleep like that, in each other’s arms, exhausted.

**_iv._ **

Harry starts to stir when the sun is almost risen in the morning sky, red and orange glow peaking in through the bedroom window. He tosses for a couple minutes, trying to bask in the fleeting minutes of sleep before he’s forced to get up and face another day.

He opens his eyes finally a few minutes later, looking around his room and realizing - oh, it’s not actually his. The closet is in the wrong place, in front of the bed instead of off to the left. There’s a different color painted across the walls and the blanket covering his body isn’t one he recognizes.

Right. He’s at Louis’s.

Harry smiles a little at the thought, body still sated and relaxed from last night and mind just happy, utterly content. He turns over in the bed to grab at the man, only to realize he’s already gone.

Harry furrows his eyebrows, sitting up from the bed with the thin comforter pooled around his naked torso, and listening for sounds out in the hallway. He doesn’t hear anything.

He climbs out of the bed - Louis’s - and realizes he’s still naked, looking around on the ground for the clothes from the day before. He sees them in a messy pile, walking over and pulling the dirty pieces of fabric back on. He has an extra pair of work clothes at the school anyway.

He walks out of the room, down the short hallway to the living room and kitchen, finding it empty as well. He spots his phone on the couch though, lying there from the night before. He walks over to it, picking it up from off the table and turning it on, checking the time. It still has battery, _7:02 AM_.

He checks his notifications, seeing a few from his different social medias and a couple texts and emails, but nothing from Louis. He shrugs it off, making his way into the kitchen and looking around until he spots a note hanging on the fridge.

‘ _omelets in the fridge, use microwave, had 2 get 2 work x’_ it reads on a green little sticky note, Louis’s messy scrawl drawing out each word.

Harry smiles, taking the sticky note and throwing it away in the correct garbage bin before opening the fridge. He pulls out the container of cold eggs, a smile on his face while he hums to some song that he can't quite place, heating up the contents on a plate he finds.

He’s happy.

-

Louis is restless as he speeds around the room, tidying and re-organizing anything and everything he can find in his classroom: books, markers, toys. His mind has been running nonstop since he woke up at five thirty, leaving a still-sleeping Harry behind.

There’s been about a thousand thoughts in his head since he woke up, the first and most important one being Xavier. He had called Niall as soon as he was awake, speaking quickly with his excited boy for a couple minutes, before Niall was put back on the phone. Louis thanked him repeatedly for watching the toddler the night before and told him he’d be down to pick him up in a few minutes, to which Niall responded that him and Ally were already planning to take the toddler for pancakes before school. Louis really loves the leprechaun.

The next thing Louis has been thinking about, which had become his top priority once he made sure his son was safe and taken care of by someone he trusted, was Harry. Fucking Harry. Louis had so many different emotions running through his body from the night before, but the main one though, was fear.

He’s a fucking idiot really, for letting his emotions get to him with Harry, letting his guard down so his heart didn’t ache as much. Really, he should have expected to be so weak, to just let Harry in as soon as he came back. But another part of him was scared and pissed.

He regretted last night for so many reasons, but the biggest one was because the aching feeling he’s been suppressing for four years is back full swing, after just one night; one fucking night. Literally.

But _anyway_ , Louis isn't too worried, because he’s always been good at ignoring his problems, and if denial is a river in Egypt, then Louis has a waterfront property on the riverbank.

-

Harry arrived at the Little Harbor Primary at seven thirty. Unlike most of the staff, he didn’t need to be at the school as bright and early. He didn’t have a class to teach, and his job description mostly consisted of monitoring education and making executive decisions, ones that didn’t need to be made before eight on a Wednesday.

He walked into the office bright eyed and bushy tailed, waving at the passing third and fourth years and Liam, who was sat at his own desk, before Harry disappeared into his own office, sitting down in his leather swivel chair, and opening his Mac.

He was smiling giddily to himself while he logged in, his mind only half paying attention to a contract that he had to go over before a meeting with the board.

The other half of his brain was thinking about Louis. About the emotion in his voice when he yelled at Harry for leaving (and maybe those weren’t his exact words - Harry leaving - but Harry knew what he was implying. He knew Louis well enough to know that that was his way of showing he was hurt and still keeping his walls up. He knew Louis probably better than anyone else, and he was willing to make a bet on that.)

He thought about the look in Louis’s eyes once he had said what he needed to say, how much more serene and light he seemed, after finally having the conversation both of them had imagined superficially time and time again.

He thought about the way Louis’s looked at him the minute after, his eyes glazed and like he was just searching Harry, trying to discover something. Harry hadn’t known at first what it was Louis was looking for, but when he looked into Louis’s eyes, actually _looked_ , he saw it. And God, did he want it too.

But what he thinks about with almost the entirety of his mind, what’s pushing at his every nerve ending with each thought, is how Louis felt. The feeling of his soft lips on his own, _finally_. The feeling of Louis’s weight on him, under him, how warm and comforting the searing of their skin together was.

How Louis was as desperate for it as Harry was, not wanting anything else than to be touched by the other man. How much he squirmed under Harry, searching for the pleasure Harry was pleased to give. How he looked when he begged. How he looked when he came.

Yeah, Harry was really fucking happy.

-

Louis was getting good at distracting himself, had been for a while. So, while ignoring the thoughts of _HarryHarryHarry_ had proved more difficult, it hadn’t been an impossible task.

His students helped, maintaining his attention most of the day and not giving him a second of rest. Louis was constantly focusing on the six-year-old’s in front of him all day, instead of the twenty-five-year-old who had woken up in his bed without him that morning, and it as working almost brilliantly. Almost because Liam stopped by during lunch that day, knocking on the door while peeking into the room.

“Lou?”  
  


Louis looked up from his desk, his lunch of a ham and cheese sandwich and tea he got from the cafeteria in front of him. “Yeah, Li?”

Liam walked a little further into the room, his black athletic wear collared polo that hugged his broad shoulders and the dark grey dress pants that clung to his thighs coming into view. “Harry wants to see you after school. Said it’s important.”

Louis sighed, taking a drink of his tea before setting it back down, nodding his head. “’Kay.”

Liam had raised an eyebrow at him, silently questions what the reaction was for, but shook it off and smiled at Louis instead, walking away once Louis had given his own small smile back.

And well, apparently Louis would have to be selling his waterfront property soon, because it seemed that denial was a losing fight with this specific problem.

-

It was three thirty when Louis walked out of his classroom, turning off the lights and making his way towards the front office. He had texted Niall on his way, telling him he’d pick Xavier up after the meeting, and after getting an ‘okay mate’ in reply, he clicked his phone off and pocketed it, walking into the front of the office and seeing Liam packing up to leave. 

They exchanged pleasantries before Liam was walking out of the room on his way to his car to spend a nice Wednesday night with his son and fiancé, and Louis was walking past Liam’s desk towards the door of Harry’s office. He gulped before knocking, “You wanted to talk?”

Harry looks up from his computer, pausing and sitting back in his chair. He looks really happy, Louis thinks. Fuck.

“Yeah, Lou. Come in.”

Louis does. He walks in warily, making his way to the chair in front of Harry’s desk and sitting down clumsily.

He feels small like this, tiny, compared to the man sitting in front of him - _his boss_ \- in a suit (albeit a casual one, but still a suit). His hair’s combed neatly, and his scruff that had just been barely growing in is shaven. Just his posture screams power, the way he carries himself. Louis didn’t recognize it when he first saw the man again, probably because Harry was more worried about the fact he has a _son_ , with his _ex_ , that he didn’t know about for _years_. But now Harry seems confident again, the way Louis’s always loved him.

Louis gulps as he sits in his chair. He doesn’t know how to start. Is there even a correct way to start a conversation with your ex slash the love of your life slash the father of your child and the man you fought with and then slept with last night? Probably not, Louis thinks.

“Erm,” Louis squirms in his seat, trying to get comfortable while Harry watches him.

And the thing is, Harry isn’t even trying to be intimidating with the way he stares at him, Louis doesn’t think. He’s sitting there with a smile on his face, a glow to his tan skin and an overall looseness to his shoulders, not tense like Louis’s seen them in the last couple of weeks.

He seems _happy_ , if anything, and that makes Louis kinda want to whimper and curl in on himself. He knows why Harry’s happy, and he also knows that he’s most probably going to have to crush that happiness in the next ten minutes. He’s not ready for that conversation, but then again, that seems to be a reoccurring theme.

Harry just smiles some more at him, before his facial features relax into something more neutral, something Louis can't quite read. He opens his mouth a few times, contemplating his words before he speaks. “Hi,” is what he decides, looking right into the blue of Louis’s eyes.

“Hi,” Louis all but squeaks out, shifting in his seat some more.

Harry seems to finally decide to say something about that, even though Louis is guessing he’s been noticing his uneasiness since he walked in and plopped his (rather nice) arse in the chair. “Relax Lou. It’s just me yeah?” He gives a reassuring smile; it’s not helping.

Louis swallows thickly again, nodding jerkily and darting his eyes around the room, and _is it getting hot in here?_ Louis tugs on the collar of his top just a bit, looking back to Harry. God, Louis feels like he's back in year ten after putting a whoopie cushion on his maths teacher’s chair, sitting in front of his principal who’s about to give him the same talk Louis got at least once every couple of weeks about _behaving_ and _listening_ _to_ _superiors_ and _yada_ - _yada_ - _yada_.

Except no, this is the guy Louis is in love with, not his secondary school principal.

And no, that’s not a phrase Louis takes lightly. ‘ _Love_.’ In fact, up until Harry, Louis was terrified to use it, terrified to admit what it meant. Up until Harry, Louis hadn’t done a lot of things though, so…

“So…” Harry starts, looking Louis in the eye, and Louis knows it’s the soft expression reserved only for him. “Last night…”

He trails of Louis prompts him, “Last night…”

Harry’s brows furrow a little, like he can't quite read Louis, and Louis thinks he’s now figured out that Louis isn’t planning on speaking much in this “meeting”.

Harry sighs again, and although he still seems happy and hopeful, he looks as if he’s ready to get serious, put up a fight. “Look,” Harry starts, “I have a lot of strong feelings about last night, Louis. I have a lot to say, and I know I’m going to lose the courage to say it all if I don’t just get it all out right now, so. Last night was… everything honestly--” Harry seems fidgety now, like he’s not really sure what Louis’s reaction is going to be. And Louis thinks that’s probably best, because he’s not sure either. He _is_ sure though, that his chest feels a little tighter as this conversation goes on, and his body is almost shaking as he listens, feels like all his senses are heightened.

Harry keeps going. “--It was everything, and more than anything I want it to happen again. I know I hurt you Lou, I get that. I’m so sorry, _God_ , you don’t know how sorry I am. And I know you’re not gonna trust me right away, I get that Lou, I do. But I wanna try--” Louis’s heart is pounding in his chest. _Don’tsayitdon’tsayitdon’tsayit_ , “--I have to try, Lou. I’m still--”

“NO! Don’t!” Louis interrupts almost yelling, half out of his chair now. Harry stops abruptly, looks confused and mildly hurt.

Louis shakes his head and refuses to make eye contact with Harry. He’s a true coward, and right now he doesn’t even care to mind. “You can't say it Harry. Don’t you dare,” Louis tries, pleading.

“Why _not_?” Harry chokes, and he sounds broken.

Louis still doesn’t meet Harry’s eyes. He can see him out of his peripheral view and that alone is enough for his heart to hurt and his head to get fuzzy. “I - I just can't Harry. It’s too much, I can't right now. _Please_.”

Harry’s face falls, and Louis cringes at the look; he hates it, hates making Harry hurt, but he also can’t just think about himself anymore. Xavier matters more than both of their happiness and it’d do Louis good to remember that right now.

Harry’s mouth opens and closes over and over, just trying to get an explanation, trying to figure out where he went wrong, make sense of the words that are on loop in his head. _I just can't. It’s too much._

Louis sighs and drags a hand over his face. “Fuck. Harry, last night… last night shouldn’t have happened.” Harry’s face falls. “We weren’t thinking, _I_ wasn’t thinking. I just - I _can't_. It’s not healthy for me to let you in so easily like this. It’s too much, it’s too fast, Harry.”

And Louis’s really trying his best to explain this, maybe let Harry down easy, but Harry looks pissed. “Are you fucking _serious_ Louis? You just decided you’d do what you want last night - fuck me with no consideration, not even thinking about how last night made me feel? Are you fucking _serious_? I thought it bloody meant something, for both of us. Not just - _fuck_. Obviously, I was wrong though, huh? I was just a quick fuck and that’s it, after all this _fucking_ _time_. _God_ , Lou.” His voice breaks on the last syllable of his rant, and Louis kind of feels like crying.

He shakes his head vehemently, “No, _Harry_. I - that’s not it at _all_. You have no fucking idea how much I want that, want you. It _hurts_. I didn’t have you for _four years_ Harry, and the pain that _you_ left eventually numbed so that I couldn’t feel it so much, but now it’s back Harry. It’s back so fucking hard and it scares the shit out of me. _I want this_ Harry. More than anything, there’s no way you don’t know that. But I can't just rush into it, I can't let you in so quickly Harry. I just - _fuck_.”  
  
“That just sounds like a lot of excuses to me.”

Louis deflates. “Harry--”

Harry stands up, like he’s dismissing whatever else Louis is going to try to say. “Well, I think this conversation has fulfilled its purpose. You can leave now.”

Louis doesn’t move.

Harry sighs; he seems exhausted. “Please leave, Louis. I can't do this anymore. Don’t make me be the one to walk out.”

Harry knows it’s the wrong thing to say as soon as it’s out of his mouth, and Louis’s eyes harden; he all but shoots out of his chair. “Right,” he spits, glaring at the man in front of him and almost daring him to do something about Louis now. “That was your job the first time around wasn’t it? So I guess it’s only fitting I’m the one who gets to do it now. How appropriate.” Louis scoffs, and as soon as he sends daggers at Harry one more time, he’s turning around and walking out of the office, slamming the door behind him. He doesn’t have to look back to know there’s a strong look of hurt on Harry’s face. He can envision it well enough in his own head.

**_v._ **

Louis had picked Xavier up from Niall as soon as he left Harry’s office. His anger had dissipated the second he saw his boy, and he easily took him up into his arms, nuzzling his head in his boy’s shoulder while the toddler giggled. It had only been less than twenty-four hours since he saw his boy, but that was twenty-five hours too long for him.

He had taken him home, explaining to Niall the meeting with Harry in the car on the way back to the flat. Niall had just listened, not offering his advice. That’s all Louis wanted anyway, for someone without bias to listen to the situation. Of course, it also meant telling Niall that he _slept_ with Harry, but Niall took it in stride, only leaving his jaw hanging open in shock for a couple seconds before he recomposed himself.

They went home, the three of them making dinner (or really just ordering a couple pizzas and soda in) and hanging out like they did almost every afternoon after work. Xavier cuddled into Louis’s arms while the Lion King played in front of them, and everything was okay.

Louis made sure to steer clear of Harry for the rest of the week. He had done a pretty good job too, only making very awkward and painful eye contact a handful of times. And all things considered, it was good. And no, Louis wasn’t exactly a fan of not talking to Harry, not when he was right there, finally in his reach after years. That was never what he wanted, and he tried to explain that in the “meeting”, but of course - typical to LouisandHarry fights - it didn’t work like that. They were defensive and vicious and just _stupid_ , taking any digs at the other they could.

Harry knew he had done his part by the glance Louis refused to spare him anytime they were even in the vicinity of each other, especially because before, Harry was always the person Louis was looking for, in any crowd, no matter what. And Louis knew he had done his part too, by the hurt that consumed Harry’s face every time they saw each other, and okay, yeah, the last thing he said to him was definitely a low blow.

But truthfully, considering all that, all he wanted was to be in Harry’s arms again, cuddled in the couch while Xavier sat in front of them, giggling and laughing while they watched a movie. That’s it.

The first time they talked after their previous conversation was the following Tuesday. Louis hadn’t been fast enough getting out of the classroom to get Xavier, and Harry was knocking on the door while Louis gathered the rest of his things.

Louis turned around at the sound, body tensing when he saw the man standing there. Before he could think about jumping out the first story window, though, Harry was talking walking further into the room. “There’s something we need to discuss.”

Louis looked unsure for a moment, trying to process what they possibly needed to talk about. They’d covered everything, hadn’t they? “…O-Okay…?”

Harry nodded, weaving his way through the tables until he was within a few feet of Louis. Close enough.

“I want to see Xavier.”

Louis chokes.

The smaller lad put his hand on his chest, trying to regain oxygen in his lungs while he sputtered from the spit that he had choked on, bending over and trying to breathe. When he finally regained his… sanity, really, he stared Harry in the eyes, raising his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I want to spend time with him, Louis. He’s my son, and whether or not we’re together, I deserve to see him.”

Louis gaped and did a double take on the middle sentence of what Harry had just claimed, deciding to comment on that first. “Harry, that’s not what I meant in the office last week. That’s not - I wasn’t saying I didn’t want to be with you. That’s not what I said.” Louis was shaking his head, trying his best to get the words out clearly. And personally, he thinks he did a pretty good job, all things considered.

Harry held his hand up, “That’s not why I’m here, Louis. That had nothing to do with it. I want to be in Xavier’s life.”

Louis sighed, only partially shakily, “Harry - I - I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he whispered softly, trying his best to not make Harry tick. He didn't need that right now; his mind was in overdrive already.

“What do you mean that’s not a good idea, Louis? He’s my son too.” Harry’s voice was firm, unwavering and standing his ground. Louis didn’t expect anything else; he knew how adamant Harry was going to be about Xavier. But -

“Harry. It’s not. a good. time. You can't just spring something like this on a kid, especially not a three-year-old. I’m not sure he even understands he _has_ another parent. It’s just - you can’t yet.”

Harry didn’t look happy to say the least. “He’s my fucking _child_ , Louis. I have every right to be in his life. Don’t give me that bullshit. It’s not up to you.”

Louis sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Harry, I’m not saying you can't see him. That’s not what I’m saying at all. _Of course,_ you're going to be in his life. But _I_ need to be the one to talk to him about it first. You have to understand that. This is not something you just rush into, Harry. As much as I know you hate that, it’s the truth.”

“That’s fucking BULLSHIT Louis. You fucking know that. I should be able to see him anytime I want,” Harry spits out and now he’s seething. His face is flushed, and he looks utterly pissed.

“Harry--” Louis tries.

“NO! I get to see him Louis. It’s not you're fucking decision, not now. I WANT TO SEE MY SON.”

“Yes, it is Harry.”

“NO, IT’S FUCKING NOT LOUIS--”

“Daddy?”

Louis and Harry both whip around at the voice. Louis’s expression instantly softens at the boy standing in the door, his tiny Spiderman bookbag hanging off his back and his curls a mess from the day, sweet green eyes looking up. _Fuck_ , he looks a lot like his dad, Louis thinks.

Louis relaxes his shoulders, making his way over to the boy at the door and passing by Harry without a word. “Hi, baby,” Louis sighs, leaning down to pick the boy up in his arms. Xavier instantly perks up at being in his father’s hold again, the pout and glassy eyes that were previously in his eyes before - probably from overhearing or seeing Louis and Harry fighting, although Louis hopes not - is gone.

“Hi, Daddy,” he mumbles out happily, burrowing his head in his father’s shoulder.

Louis looks down at his boy, “You ready to go baby?” Louis asks softly into Xavier’s ear, looking down at him so he can meet his eyes.

Xavier just nods into his shoulder where he is burrowed under his chin, yawning after he answers. Louis figured he would be exhausted after school; he always is.

He smiles fondly at his boy before turning back to Harry. He actually does feel a little sorry for this; he knows it’s a conversation that needs to be had. “I’m sorry. I have to get him home.”

Harry just nods slowly, and Louis is grateful. The furious look he was sporting earlier - before Xavier came into the room - is gone, and it’s replaced with a soft expression, kind of like the one Louis always directs at Xavier.

Louis walks over to his desk, grabbing his bag and throwing it over his shoulder while continuing to hold the toddler in his arms. Harry stands there in the same spot, unmoving, as Louis makes his way towards the exit. When Louis gets to the door, he turns around with a sleepy Xavier in his arms, making eye contact with Harry. “I’m sorry,” Louis says, and he hopes it’s enough to show how many things he’s sorry for right now.

Harry nods, giving him a soft, albeit sad, smile, and Louis turns back around, bouncing the boy once in his arms. “Okay, let’s go home baby.”

Xavier nods where his head is perched on Louis’s shoulder, and then he lifts a hand and waves back into the classroom, smiling tiredly at the other man.

Harry smiles back without a thought, waving at the boy in Louis arms as he walks farther and farther away, and then eventually out of sight.

And Louis smiles at the exchange, carrying his son out of the building, and thinks maybe this conversation went alright, maybe they’re past it for now.

**_vi._ **

Summer was turning to autumn as August came and went, the temperatures dropping to the mid-sixties, and rain coming more and more frequently.

Louis thinks everything is going well, all in all. Xavier’s passing his first month of preschool with flying covers (not that anyone had thought different, but hey, Louis’s gonna brag about it anyway), and Harry and Louis haven’t fought since the conversation about Xavier.

And sure, maybe in the two and a half weeks since that discussion, they haven’t really talked at all except where professionally necessary, but Louis’s counting that as a win. Maybe Harry just needs time too, to adjust to the idea of having a son and having Louis back in his life, maybe that’s why he’s been distant. And Louis accepts that, has so problem with it really. Honestly, he’s surprised that Harry hasn’t tried to talk to him about Xavier again, but maybe he’s just giving it time, and Louis is definitely not going to be the one to start a fight about it.

He woke up the first Saturday in September to rain beating down on his bedroom window, gray clouds covering the sky and keeping his room dark, even though the sun had been up for a couple hours. It was eight when he rolled out of bed, lazily walking over to his closest. He grabbed out a pair of blue jeans, sliding them on and cuffing them at the bottom, and pulled a plain white t-shirt over his head, adding socks to his outfit before he closed the closet again.

He made his bed halfheartedly before making his way down the hallway, turning into Xavier’s still dark room, save for the light shining through the thin window curtains. He looked at his boy, lying awake in his own bed and hair mussed everywhere, a blissful look on the toddler’s face from the sleep he had probably just recently woken up from.

He had someone managed to move his head to the other end of the mattress - Louis had finally switched the crib for a real bed, one that was close enough to the floor so that if Xavier somehow rolled off in the middle of the night, it was only a less than a foot drop onto the carpet below - at some point during his sleep so that his head was hanging near the end and his feet were facing the wall.

The boy was lost in his own little world, staring intently at the elephants that had been painted onto the wall to the left of the door. Louis smiled fondly and walked closer, leaning over his boy’s face when he got there, “Morning Bub.”

Xavier beamed at the sight of his father, taking his focus off the wall and sitting up instead, facing Louis who had sat down at the end of the bed. He had definitely just woken up, Louis knew because the toddler didn’t quite have the same control over his body as he usually did, tipping over into Louis’s chest with a quiet giggle.

Louis smiled at the boy, hooking his hands under his armpits and pulling him into his arms, “You ready to get up Bub?”

“Yeah Daddy, hungry,” the boy replied with a couple nods of his head, his tummy growling right after to support his claim.

Louis laughed a little and stood up, pulling the boy with him, “Okay Bub. Let’s get you dressed first, then I’ll make you something, yeah?”

“M’kay Daddy,” Xavier agreed, shaking his head a little too hard so that his curls fell into his face, giggling as he lifted his hands up to push them away.

Louis took Xavier over to the closet then, opening it up and looking through the stacks and baskets of clothes with Xavier on his hip, playing with the fabric of Louis’s tee. He pulled out a tiny hoodie, a pair of toddler sweatpants, and clean underwear and walked back over to the bed, laying Xavier on the bed to change him.

“Alright bud,” Louis said, looking down at his boy while he pulled the sweatpants over his legs, hoodie already on, “All set. Now breakfast.”

“Breakfastbreakfastbreakfast,” the boy chanted, clapping his hands together as Louis helped him off the bed, setting him on the ground.

Xavier ran out of the room, rounding the corner to the living room and kitchen while Louis followed after. When Louis had caught up with the boy, Xavier was pulling at the fridge handle, trying and failing to get it open, and pouting about it. Louis chuckled as he walked over, “Here baby, let me. Milk?”

The toddler stepped back, nodding his head with a little smile as his frustration from not being able to open the fridge dissipated. “Alright love,” Louis said, opening the door and grabbing the jug out, “Why don’t you go sit on the couch and watch some cartoons for a little bit while I make breakfast? I’ll bring over your sippy when I get it ready.”

The boy’s smile grew, and he nodded his head again, smiling happily at his father before walking out of the kitchen, making his way to the couch and climbing up like he had been taught and grabbing the remote.

Louis grabbed the green and purple sippy cup out of the cupboard, filling it with milk before putting the jug away, and walked over to the couch as he screwed on the lid. “Here you go baby.”

“Thanks Daddy,” the boy sighed out, grabbing for the bottle and immediately bringing it to his lips.

Louis smiled at the boy, ruffling his curls with a hand before he walked back into the kitchen, pulling out the ingredients for pancakes.

-

It was two by the time Louis and Xavier got back from Tesco’s, Louis’s arms full of bags as he unlocked the door to the flat and let the boy inside. It was still raining out, slightly harder than a sprinkle, but still enough to set the mood for the Saturday in.

Louis had texted Niall while they were at the store, letting him know when they’d be back and telling him to come over. Sure enough, right as Louis was putting the last of the groceries in the fridge and pantry as Xavier played on the floor around him, the door in the foyer opened and in Niall and Ally stepped.

“Uncle Niall!” Xavier was immediately on his feet, surging forward at full force and crashing into the brunette’s leg, hugging the limb like his life depended on it. Niall laughed, bending down and pulling the boy up into his arms, giving him a bear hug. “Hey kiddo.”

Xavier giggled in Niall’s arms while Ally walked further into the flat, “Brought dinner/lunch,” she announced, shaking the takeaway bag of Taco Bell in his hands.

Louis walked out of the kitchen, rounding the corner and spotting the other three, “You’re a godsend love, thank you,” he greeted, kissing Ally on the cheek.

Niall walked into the kitchen while Louis was pulling the soft taco’s out of the bag - all _fifteen_ of them, because of course Niall needed eight to himself - holding Xavier on his hip still while Ally sat down at the telly, flipping through channels, “Hey mate. Figured you lot would be hungry.”

Louis turned around, grabbing the tacos in his hands and making his way to the living room too, “Were, very much. Thanks Ni,” Louis replied, smiling at his best mate and sitting on one end of the couch.

Niall sat down too, wrapping his arms around Ally and pulling her to his chest after he had handed Xavier off to his father. Louis handed out the tacos, making sure to mock Niall for eating so much, to which Niall responded by messily chowing down on his first taco, meat sauce dribbling off his chin. The man had no shame, really.

Louis opened a taco for Xavier, setting the paper down on his lap and handing the food to the boy, “Take small bites, okay Bub?”

The toddler nodded absentmindedly, grabbing the food from his father and taking a slightly bigger than he probably should bite. Louis looked down at the boy, frowning. “Zee, I mean it. If you can't take small bites, I’m going to have to cut it up for you.”

The boy nodded again, looking up to his father with his big green eyes, “Sorry Daddy. Will eat small,” the boy apologized and promised, giving Louis his I’m-a-little-angel smile. Louis nodded at the boy, letting him continue to eat his taco while the older man opened his own, taking a bite and looking to the screen where a match of Man U was playing.

-

Niall and Ally had been over for a couple hours now, the four of them sitting on the floor in front of the telly and playing an ongoing game of Monopoly. Xavier was winning, mostly because Niall, who had been appointed banker for some crazy reason, kept slipping him hundreds whenever they thought they were being sneaky, and neither Louis nor Ally had the heart to call them out.

It was still raining out when the doorbell rang, Louis getting up of his stomach to open the door. “Niall stop handing him hundreds, we can all see you,” he warned in a faux-stern tone, pointing at his best mate, who just gave him a look of confusion back as he kept moving his hand filled with Monopoly money towards the three-year-old. Xavier giggled wildly while he grabbed the bills, and Ally grinned at the exchange going on in front of her.

Louis shook his head with a fond sigh, turning around and pulling the front door open, still smiling when he saw the man in front of him.

It wasn’t a man he recognized, definitely not a neighbor, and he doesn’t think it’s a parent of any of his students. Why would they be showing up here anyway? “Um... hi? Can I help you?” Louis asked, trying to rack his brain for anything he was forgetting. He thought maybe it was a delivery, but the man wasn’t holding any boxes - just an orange Manilla envelope - and Louis hadn’t bought something off Amazon in a while anyway.

The man didn’t answer, “Are you Louis Tomlinson?”

Louis furrowed his eyebrows, “Yes,” he nodded. Why did that matter?

The man raised his hand and handed him the folder, “You’ve been served.” With that he walked away, leaving a confused Louis standing in his doorway.

Louis’s eyebrows furrowed even more, and he took a step back, so he was standing more in his flat and less in the hallway. He tore off the seal on the folder, pulling out what was inside - a stack of papers - and looking over it.

He read over the first couple lines of the top document before scanning over the thing as a whole to make sure he was right. “Holy fucking shit,” he muttered under his breath, quietly enough for no one else to hear, moving the top page off the stack to the bottom to read the next document. “Holy _shit_.”

Niall seemed to hear that one though. He lifted his head up from the boardgame, giving Louis a confused and worried look. Louis never swore around Xavier. It was one of his biggest rules. “Lou?” Niall asked pausing, Ally continuing to play with Xavier to distract him. If she heard Louis, she probably knew something was off too.

“What’s wrong?” Niall asked again when Louis didn’t answer, just stood frozen with his back to the other three. “You okay mate?”

Louis turned around then, slowly, eyes wide with disbelief and face muscles tense. “Louis.” Niall repeated, and this time it was less of a question, more just telling Louis to explain. 

Louis’s mouth opened and closed once, twice.

“He’s - Harry’s filing for custody.”

**_vii._ **

Louis was so many things the following Monday morning, walking with purpose into the school at ten ‘till, Xavier on his hip. He was a pit of emotions: confused, hurt, furious, determined, pissed, infuriated, but furious was definitely taking the cake.

He dropped Xavier off at before-care that morning, letting his anger dissipate for a couple minutes, long enough to say goodbye to his boy and kiss him on the head, say ‘I love you’ with all the fondness and adoration in the world.

And then he was on his way again. He took long strides - or as long strides as his shorter legs would let him - down the main hallway, getting more and more worked up as he went, practically seething.

When he finally got to the conference room - where he knew everyone would already be - he stormed in, the door slamming behind him. All the staff that had to show up for the weekly Monday morning meetings - all the preschool teachers, as well as the year one to year six instructors and vice and head principal - looked at Louis with shock at the abrupt entrance. Louis didn’t let the stares shake him; he knew he looked utterly pissed.

“Everyone out. The meeting’s cancelled for today,” Louis barked, making fierce eye contact with each and every teacher.

“Louis--”

Harry cut off when Louis glared at him, practically had fire in his eyes. Louis looked away from Harry after he shut up, looking back at the staff in front of him. “Out. _Now_.”

Everyone knew better than to disagree with an angry Louis, a side they didn’t usually see from him, as cheery and agreeable as he typically was with each of them. And Liam, Niall and Zayn - who already knew about the situation - knew better than to fight with Louis on this. Not on his son.

They all stood up from their seats quickly, gathering their things with confused expressions, but following orders nonetheless and swiftly leaving the conference room. They were out in two minutes, the door closing after everyone had left, Zayn, Liam, and Niall being the last ones to exit, giving Louis and Harry each a concerned look.

Once the door clicked shut, Louis turned his attention from it to Harry, who was looking at him as well. Louis raised his hand, the one filled will a small pile of papers. “What the hell are these?” he hissed, shaking the documents in his hand and glaring daggers at Harry.

Harry took a glance at the papers, eyes lighting up in recognition and looking back into Louis’s eyes. “You can't dismiss a meeting without permission, Louis.” His voice was calm and reserved, indifferent, and that pissed Louis off even more.

“I’ll do what I fucking want,” Louis snapped back, chest heaving with the sharp breaths he was taking.

Harry’s demeanor didn’t change. “I’m your boss, Louis.”

Louis scoffed at that, stepping a foot closer to Harry, daring him. “That means fuck all Harry. The fact that you’re my boss doesn’t apply to this situation, and you know that. And if you try that excuse one more time it’s gonna take a lot for me to restrain from smacking you. Now--” he continues, shaking the papers in his hand again, “--what the hell are these?”

Harry takes another glance at him before answering, still reserved as ever. “The description of the document is in the heading.”

Louis almost breaks, almost lunges at Harry. Almost. He scoffs instead. “You fucking filed for custody, Harry. Are you fucking _joking_?”

Harry’s still composed, neutral. “I can't talk to you, Louis.”

Louis’s voice rises, getting closer to a scream, “Why the hell not?!”

“My lawyer advised me against it. It can make the judge bias,” Harry explains, and he isn’t as indifferent now. There’s emotion to his voice and Louis craves it, wants to get Harry as worked up as he is. But he mostly just wants to scream at the man.

Louis gapes, “Are you fucking serious Harry? A fucking lawyer. Are you - fucking _hell_. _Why_?”

“I told you I wanted to see him, Louis. I wasn’t just making shit up.” Harry’s swearing now. Good. Means he’s getting worked up too.

Louis runs a hand down his face, shaking his head, “And I fucking told you I needed time for that. And he's not ready. I _never_ said you couldn’t see him, Harry. I asked for _time_. That’s all. Not for you to go and try to take my son away from me without even talking to me about it again. That’s fucking bullshit. I had no problem talking about this. I know you need to be in his life. I _know_ that. _You know better than fucking anyone that I know that a child needs their father._ But this--” Louis gestures around him at nothing in particular, “--wasn’t needed. You made an impulsive decision, and what you need to realize is, it’s not just us that this affects anymore. It’s our kid too. And _this_ \--” he gestures around again, motioning between him and Harry, “--is going to affect him. It’s going to affect Xavier. _God_ Harry, why couldn’t you just think for once in your damn life? You could’ve at least fucking asked again, not just gone and done it on a whim! Fucking _hell_.”

Louis slams the papers down on the conference room table. It’s deathly quiet now that Louis isn’t yelling, and the silence is almost too loud.

They’re both quiet, looking into each other’s gazes as Louis catches his breath and Harry tries to process Louis’s words. Then finally,

“I’m sorry, Louis, but we can't talk right now. I have to work.”

With that Harry leaves the room, maneuvering around Louis and keeping his head down, something he does when he truly does feel bad.

Louis curses under his breath, running a hand through his quiff and kicking the closest thing to him in anger. He regrets it as soon as his foot makes contact with the chair, grabbing his toes and cursing some more.

-

The papers have been laying on the countertop for the last week and a half, taunting Louis every time he passes by. He tried to throw something over top of it, keep it from drawing his attention whenever he walks in with Xavier or makes breakfast, but it just made it worse. Made him think of them more.

“What are you gonna do, Lou?” Liam asks from the couch where he’s sitting by Niall on a Tuesday night, beer in his hand and Xavier already tucked into bed down the hall.

Louis sighs, taking a swig of his own drink and looking out the sliding glass door and into the darkness that night brings at ten o’clock. “I have to file back. I can’t just lose Xavier. I don’t have a choice.”

Niall and Liam nod, taking another gulp of their beers in silent agreement with Louis. They don’t need to say more, Louis knows.

-

Louis had filed the papers to the court the next day and hired a child custody lawyer a week later.

Gabriel Audant, the lawyer that Louis had settled on, had been top tier. He had an astonishingly high win rate, and he was a well-known successful family lawyer, one who assured Louis he was at high odds of getting whatever he wanted out of this custody battle.

All Louis wanted was his son.

-

The next couple weeks were exhausting. Louis spent every free minute going over documents, organizing for court, and preparing arguments to prove he is, in fact, a fit father.

Every lunchtime break was spent on his laptop, researching custody battles and pouring over notes, making sure he was ready. Every hour after Xavier was put to bed was spent on the phone with his lawyer discussing court matters, Audant explaining the do’s and don’ts of court, what information is useful and what shouldn’t be said. He covered how to address every member of the judicial system, to absolutely _not_ to start a fight in court with Harry and practice his hearing statements religiously, engrave them in his head.

Audant covered every base with Louis, briefing him on what he had learned through the ladder about Harry’s case, what Louis needed to say and how to say it, what the judge would be making his or her decision on: the best interest of the children (child) involved.

Audant had also explained some other details of the process: how the hearing would probably be short - unlike criminal trials - and would only last around an hour, long enough for both sides to present their cases, and there wouldn’t be many people in attendance. He explained how a decision would be reached the day of the trial too, unless unforeseen complications come up, and that the visitation schedule - based on whatever the outcome of the hearing is - would be negotiated immediately after.

He presented Louis with basic details of what both, Harry: the petitioner, and Louis: the respondent, were after. Louis’s lawyer summarized Harry’s case as most likely seeking shared physical and legal custody of the dependent child: Xavier would live with both Louis and Harry, and both fathers would have a role in making major decisions involving their children’s best interests.

He summarized what Louis would be seeking as sole physical and legal custody of the dependent child: Xavier would live only with Louis and Louis would have full rights of making major decisions in Xavier’s life. If Louis was granted with sole custody, Harry would still get visitation rights and parenting time, but without legal guardianship, and the terms would have to be negotiated by Louis’s standards.

And in the amount of time it took Louis to get his case together, he’s pretty sure he could be halfway to a law degree by now with all the knowledge of the system he has. Words like ‘litigation’ and ‘counterpetition’ were becoming of regular use in his vocabulary and he’s pretty sure Xavier had heard him use ‘affidavit’ so much, he was trying to say it too.

Niall had even come over once laughing because earlier that day in class, Xavier had started spitting out legal terms from ‘judge’ to ‘appeal’, all very big words for a three-year-old to be using.

And all through this, Harry and his’ relationship was becoming more and more tense. They barely spoke to each other - orders from their respective lawyers - and when Louis did glance in Harry’s directions when they passed in the hallway or were attending the same staff meeting, it was a look full of contempt.

Louis made sure to spend extra time with Xavier though, even if he was incredibly busy. He made sure to be in his boy’s life just as much, if not more, to make up for how terrible he felt for being so occupied.

It was a lot for Louis. Taking care of himself, taking care of Xavier, and preparing for, quite frankly, the most important decision of his life, all at the same time. It was a lot, and he was stressed constantly, but the look in his boy’s eyes every morning when he woke up, or the way he’d brush his curls out of his eyes when he was rambling on about his day, it would always be enough to keep Louis going. He thinks he could do it forever just for the three-year-old.

-

Louis got the notice by email a couple weeks later. The hearing was set for November 1st, just two weeks away.

**_viii._ **

**A/N: I just want to say, I’m in high school, which means I obviously do not have a wide range of knowledge on the judicial system, especially not in England. I did a good amount of research on American custody cases so that the trial would at least seem semi-realistic, but if you _have_ gone to law school and are somehow reading this, I’m very sorry for how - I’m sure - far off this is :)**

Sunday morning came and Louis was up early, Niall already in the flat by eight to act as Louis’s right-hand man. The court hearing wasn’t until three, but Louis wasn’t able to sleep past seven, his mind turning at full speed at everything that was happening today. The cup of tea he had been sipping and refilling all morning wasn’t helping his jitteriness either.

Niall helped watch Xavier throughout the morning while Louis read over his notes again, making sure he was ready to present in court. Louis went over his statements over and over again, repeating them to Niall where he sat on the floor with Xavier in his lap.

Niall spent the late morning and early afternoon after Louis had prepared trying to distract him, coming up with and using every idea that popped into his head.

At some point though it wasn’t working anymore, and Louis couldn’t go longer than a couple minutes without being consumed by the stress of what was going to happen in the next few hours, and Niall gave up, letting them sit on the couch in silence while Xavier took a nap.

When the clock hit one, Louis was up off the couch and showering, changing into his white button-down dress shirt and pulling his royal blue blazer over it with a pair of matching slacks. He styled his hair into a quiff while Niall changed into his own suit in the living room.

They woke Xavier up from his nap when they were done, getting him ready to leave, and were out the door by two.

Niall drove to Liam’s while Louis checked his notes another time, making sure there wasn’t a single thing he wasn’t ready to provide to the court if they asked. When they got to the house, Liam was already waiting, ready to take Xavier off Louis’s hands while the hearing proceeded. Louis thanked Liam once Xavier was inside with Bear, and Liam waved his hand in dismissal, pulling Louis in for a tight hug as a ‘good luck’.

-

They arrived at the courthouse at half two. The building was intimidating as Niall and Louis made their way up the granite concrete, opening the heavy, large double doors that opened into the lobby.

It was just as daunting inside, if not more, with the steady aroma of professionalism coursing through every space - if that was even possible - showing just how significant it was to be in this building. The courthouse was decorated minimalistic-ally, neutral colors painted onto each wall and marble columns supporting the building’s weight from the inside with portraits of judges and lawyers hanging on an adjacent wall, and famous art in the places where the photographs weren't.

There were people rushing everywhere in suits and dresses, heading to wherever they were set to be, serious expressions on their faces and determination or intimidation in their steps.

Louis spotted his lawyer right away, Niall and him walking up to the man and speaking while they waited, Niall trying to distract him and Gabriel assuring him that they had a strong case.

-

It was five ‘til three when they were called into the courtroom.

Louis, Niall, and Gabriel all followed after the woman who had come to collect them, in silence, the uneasiness of court getting to them, or at least Niall and Louis; Gabriel was confident as ever.

They were led down a hallway and stopped at a pair of large wood doors, identical to the rest that they had already seen on the way down. The woman motioned them inside, opening one of the doors, and she was gone again, on her way to her next appointment.

The courtroom was large, and the few amounts of people that filled it made it seem even more daunting. It was well lit with all the overhanging lights, and there were rows and rows of seats that lined the room.

Louis immediately spotted Harry when he walked in; he was hard to miss. The man was standing towards the front at the two tables in front of the stand, chatting with someone that Louis assumed to be his lawyer. He was dressed to the nines, all black from his head to his feet. He wore a black blazer on top of a black dress shirt, a pair of black slacks and sleek black dress shoes covering his lower half.

His hair was shorter than Louis last saw it, contained and combed neatly, the short brown waves shaping his facial structure and jawline perfectly and making him appear just that bit older; more mature and well kept. And really, if they weren’t in the current situation and it was a few years prior, Louis would’ve jumped him the second he layed eyes on him.

But with the circumstances being that it _wasn’t_ five years earlier and they were in fact in court over the custody of their child, Louis peeled his eyes away - albeit past the amount of time that any normal person would deem acceptable - and made his way to his own table with Gabriel on the left side of the room, Niall taking a seat in one of the pews behind him.

The room quieted quickly as the doors shut at the entrance to the court room and people took their seats. A man - the bailiff, Louis figured - walked to the right of the stage, announcing to the court in a deep voice, “Please rise. The Court of the Nineteenth Judicial Circuit, Family Division, is now in session, the Honorable Judge Joan Hunt presiding.”

Louis and Harry, as well as their lawyers and everyone else present stood immediately, watching as a door behind the bench opened and a woman who looked to be in her mid-sixties stepped out, gray hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and a judicial robe covering her.

She made her way to the seat at the highest point of the stage, sitting and adjusting herself before she addressed the room. “Everyone may be seated.”

All those in attendance did as told, sitting back into their chairs and waiting for the next instruction to be given. Louis was antsy while he sat, eyes darting every which way and processing his surroundings at full speed, leg bouncing under the table.

Judge Hunt looked around the room once more, making eye contact with Louis, then Harry, before picking up her gavel and bringing it down on the designated spot on her desk loudly,

“Court is now in session.”

-

“Let the record reflect that Harry Edward Styles and Louis William Tomlinson have both appeared in court as summoned on November 3rd, 2020. The hearing may now proceed,” the judge announced after setting her gavel down. She intertwined her hands together over the surface before continuing, “The petitioner has filed in favor of custody over the respondent child. Mr. Styles, what are you seeking today?”  
  


The judge turned towards Harry’s table, directing her question at the man who stood respectfully. “I am seeking shared legal and physical custody, Your Honor.”

“You may be seated,” Hunt nodded, turning towards Louis next, whose knee was shaking anxiously under the table. Why couldn’t he be as calm as Harry? “And you Mr. Tomlinson?”  
  
Louis stood this time, “I am seeking sole physical custody and sole legal custody, Your Honor.” His voice shook, just barely.

“Thank you, you may be seated,” she addressed Louis, who sat, taking a deep breath, before turning back to look at the courtroom as a whole, “Would the petitioner or respondent wish to give opening statements?”

Both lawyers stood this time, “No, Your Honor,” they repeated one after another, taking their seats again.

“Let the record reflect no opening statements were given. The petitioner may now begin their case in testifying. You may approach the stand.”

At that Harry stood up, walking towards the stage and sitting in the witness chair, his posture straight and his expression neutral.

Up until now, Louis had been plenty nervous. He couldn’t stop worrying about the what ifs of the hearing, thinking about all the places it could possibly go wrong, and he was sweating bullets. He hadn’t understood how Harry could look so reserved during this, walking up to the stand to give a testimony that would so greatly affect his life.

Louis felt reassured though when he could see the way Harry’s hand were shaking as he sat, the only thing giving his composedness away. Louis was thankful for that, not being the only one who felt immense amount of pressure for this.

But he also felt a weird sense of urgency, like something was compelling him to walk up to the stand and comfort Harry, tell him everything was going to be okay. Of course, Louis didn’t, but it scared him how strong the urge to was. It scared him how much he still _felt_ for the curly headed man sitting at the podium, even now while they fought for custody.

The plaintiff walked over to the stand then, holding a Bible in front of Harry.

“Mr. Styles, please put your right hand on the Bible and raise your left. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

“I do.”

“The direct examination may now begin. Mr. Styles, please state your case. You may now speak freely.”

“Thank you, Your Honor. I am seeking shared custody of the dependent child. Up until two months ago, I was not aware of Xavier’s existence and was never informed due to the end of the relationship. Now that I am aware that I share a child with Mr. Tomlinson, I am requesting partial custody of that child. I am fully equipped to take care and contribute in raising the him. I have a full-time job as principal of Little Harbor Primary School and have more than acceptable living conditions to share with my son. If I am given partial custody of Xavier, he will stay in the same community and school, and his living circumstances will not be severely interrupted. He would still be seeing everyone who is already in his life, and I would adjust my schedule to whatever it needs to be to accommodate my son and his lifestyle. I rest my case, Your Honor.”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles. You may now be questioned through cross examination as well as by the presiding judge. How is your communication with Mr. Tomlinson?”

“It is reasonable, Your Honor. We are able to communicate well, and we had been up until the file for custody was issued. I believe we can still communicate justifiably for the well-being of our child, as we were before, Your Honor.”

“Do you have any existing arrangements with the child, Mr. Styles?”

“No, Your Honor. Xavier has continued to stay with Mr. Tomlinson during this process, and I have not had any contact with him besides at school in a professional manner.”

The judge nodded and turned from Harry back to the rest of the audience, addressing them, “I have no further questions. You may now step down, Mr. Styles.”

Harry did as told, walking back to his seat and sitting next to his own lawyer, not sparing Louis a glance as he went. Louis didn’t know why that bothered him so much, that Harry and he had become almost like strangers in this process, but Louis chose to ignore the feeling. He figured it was better that way.

“The respondent may now present his case.”

With sweaty palms and shaky legs, Louis rose from his seat, making his way to the stand and sitting. Fuck this was terrifying, even with less than ten people in the room. Louis hated it.

He pulled himself together and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in and releasing it before opening them again. He could do this. It was for Xavier. He could do anything for his boy.

The plaintiff approached the stand again, holding a Bible in front of Louis. Again, the judge spoke. “Mr. Tomlinson, please put you right hand on the Bible and raise your left. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

Louis nodded, “I do.”

“Mr. Tomlinson, please state your case. You may now speak freely.”

Louis nodded, sparing a glance to his lawyer, who nodded solemnly, Niall, who gave him a reassuring smile, and lastly Harry, who suddenly looked so scared Louis forgot how to speak. He pulled himself together quickly again, shaking any thoughts of Harry away, and replacing it with the image of a three-year-old who looked suspiciously identical to Harry.

_Just what you rehearsed, Louis._ “Your Honor, I am seeking sole legal and physical custody of my child. I have taken care of him for the previous almost four year of his life, and I plan to continue doing so, if allowed by the court. When I was made aware of my pregnancy, I attempted to get in contact with Mr. Styles multiple times, to which all attempts failed. When I could not reach him, nor could anybody else, I decided to raise Xavier on my own. I have provided him with a loving home and more than adequate education all throughout his life, and I have given him every one of his needs throughout. I feel I am fit to continue being Xavier’s father, and have the conditions for it. I live in a very safe flat complex, with plenty of room for both of us, and I have a full-time job as a year two teacher at Little Harbor Primary School--”

“--You and Mr. Styles are employed at the same school?” The woman in front of Louis interrupts.

“Y-yes, Your Honor.”

The woman sitting on the bench seemed to think something over for a second before gesturing at Louis, “You may continue.”

Louis nods, swallowing thickly. “As I said, I have a full-time job as a teacher, and I make far above minimum wage, plenty for me to take care of myself, as well as Xavier. If I am only granted partial custody, I believe the adjustments will interrupt Xavier’s lifestyle, and he may not be ready for that. I think it is important that the transition be made slowly, so that Xavier does not suffer through the change. As of now, Xavier lives with me solely, and he has succeeded in every aspect of his life so far. I believe that drastically changing his living conditions at this age could affect him negatively. Thank you, Your Honor.”

“Thank you, Mr. Tomlinson. You may now be questioned through cross examination as well as by the presiding judge. I have no further questions at this time. Would you like to rest your case?”  
  


Louis nodded, “Yes, Your Honor.”

“You may now step down.”

Louis nodded, sending her a small smile before he stood up, making his way away from the stand back to his seat. He felt relatively good, all things considered. He had managed to remember all of his key points, and he hadn’t messed up when speaking. He considered that a win.

Both Louis and Harry readjusted themselves in their seats before they looked back at the judge on the edge of their seats, waiting for her next announcement.

“Both the petitioner and respondent have testified and presented their cases. Would either party like to give closing statements?” she continued.  
  


Both the representing lawyers rose again. “No, Your Honor.”

“No, Your Honor.”

“Very well. Let the record reflect that both parties have omitted closing statements, and both have presented their cases. We will take a fifteen-minute recess to come to a decision.” With that the judge banged her gavel onto the wooden surface in front of her, standing up from her chair and exiting back through the door she entered from.

Louis didn’t know what to do. He was in slight shock at how quickly the hearing was going, even if he had been informed of that before. In all the shows he’s watched with court hearings, never had they been this reserved and efficient. There was always someone yelling or being yelled at, someone disrespecting a judge just to be thrown out of the room for it, or some kind of unknown information coming to light in the heat of the moment.

This was completely uncharted territory for Louis, and it terrified him. In a matter of minutes, a woman who had no idea what either Louis or Harry were truly like, would be deciding to what degree they got to be a part of their child’s life. That amazed Louis, how a stranger could be given such an important decision to make in another’s life.

Louis stood up from his chair slowly and shakily, following after where everybody else was exiting too. He couldn’t say anything when Niall tried to speak to him. His throat felt so _dry_ , and it’s like the room had gone up twenty degrees, it was too _much_. A million and one thoughts were running through Louis’s mind and biting at every nerve ending in his body. He couldn’t get away and the longer he waited in the lobby, the worse the feeling got, sinking, sinking, sinking, and sunk.

Harry couldn’t say he was any better. He knew the outcome of this hearing already, or at least part of it. His lawyer had explained it before. Louis had already been taking care of Xavier for _years_ , he was the father that gave birth to him, a factor the courts found especially important.

There was no doubt that Louis would get at least partial custody. He had no criminal record except for one or two parking and speeding tickets, and he had all the criteria the court looked for in custody cases: good financial status, steady income, a safe and stable home environment, and an extra four years of experience under his belt that Harry didn’t have.

There was no way that Louis wouldn’t get custody. There just wasn’t. Harry knew that.  
  
He also knew that there was a possibility he wouldn’t get any custody at all. He hadn’t been in the Xavier’s life until now, and even now he hadn’t really been in it. He had all the stability Louis had, but the courts could easily not see it that way.

And that terrified Harry more than anything. He wanted, needed, to be able to see his son, take him out and spend quality time with him, experience everything he hadn’t even known he was missing.

Waiting didn’t make it any better for Harry either, his eyes glued to the doors that everyone had exited out of and waiting for them to be pushed open again, his throat dry and a feeling in his stomach that he kind of just wanted to puke up.

Luckily, he didn’t have to deal with the feeling long, because the doors swung open a little over ten minutes later, and a woman was ushering them in.

Louis and Harry both let out a sigh of relief before quickly walking in, taking their seats at the respective tables almost desperately. Everyone was silent as they seated themselves, staring at the door behind the bench and waiting for it to open again.

There was a muffled click that sounded through the court room, and then the door was opening, everyone quickly rising out of their seats.

Judge Hunt stepped through the door, closing it and taking a seat once again, all in complete serenity. She grabbed the gavel in her hand, bringing it down with a _bang_ to signal that court was in session again, the five people in the room who truly cared about the verdict on the edge of their seats.

  
She set the gavel down, looking out to Louis and then Harry and then back again. “Thank you for your patience and time. A verdict has been reached during the recess. Based on the evidence presented in court and the circumstance of the situation, the court grants shared legal custody to both parties, and sole physical custody has been given to Louis Tomlinson.”

**_ix._ **

“The case of Styles v Tomlinson, over the custody of Xavier Levi Tomlinson is closed. Court is adjourned.”

Everything was in slow motion as Louis stood up, the chatter of the room like background noise. He felt like he was starring in a soap opera as he rose, the people around him congratulating him but he couldn’t _hear_ them, eyes darting around and vision fuzzy at the edges, like everything was lagging around him.

His vision immediately focused on Harry at the other table. He was grinning, dimple on full display for everyone. Louis could see the tension releasing from his shoulders, grinning madly at everyone around him who was shaking his hand or offering their own congratulations for what Louis knew Harry’s hired team would see as a win.

He was hugging his lawyer happily, running his hands through his hair and smiling easily, gesturing around to every man in a suit that surrounded him, and Louis was _irritated_. A rational voice at the back of his head told him to calm down, that this was a win for Louis, never mind the fact if it was for Harry too, but that didn’t ease his nerves. And he wasn’t upset because Harry had gotten custody, no, that’s definitely not it. He’s slightly (read: possibly on his way to more than _slightly_ ) pissed because absolutely none of this shit show was needed. Louis has never known Harry to be an exceptionally patient person, and the fact that he hadn't waited but two weeks to make this a legal battle just proves that. God knows how much money this is going to cost both of them.

And… _and_ \- not only is it going to make a sizable dent in his bank account because _holy fuck are custody battles expensive_ , but it has effectively divided Louis’s attention between his own son, and fighting for his right to _keep_ his son, for the better part of a month. A month that Louis hasn’t been able to take care of Xavier like he should because he was too busy fighting with his ex-boyfriend over him. And if potential financial trouble isn't something to piss Louis off to no end, it’s messing with his son that will surely do it.

And like. It’s not even like Louis was ever going to keep Xavier away from Harry. That had never been a thought that had even managed to cross his mind when Harry showed up again for the first time back in August, but Louis also had first-hand experience of how hard it is to have another man - _stranger_ \- introduced into your life as a father figure without any say. It’s shit, is what it is, if Louis’s going to put it bluntly.

All feelings of Harry aside, he knew with no uncertainty that if Harry left, it would break Xavier. He knew that so very well, and he felt on edge at the thought, frustrated to no end that this whole process - one Louis never imagined happening after a certain period of time had passed once Xavier was born - was progressing so rapidly, without a way for Louis to slow it down.

Up until a few months ago, Louis never imagined this moment, couldn’t, really. He never would’ve believed anyone who told him the man that his boy reminds him so much of - is practically a mirror image of - would be back. And _isn’t that just a kick in the throat?_ , because for some unspecified, vague amount of time, yes, he had been waiting. Waiting for Harry to somehow know, to come back, to show up again, but it never happened. He waited for a long time, but eventually it was just wishful thinking (or maybe not, Louis can’t really be sure anymore), believing that Harry was going to pop back up again and fucking stay this time. And eventually, his stomach stopped dropping when there was a knock at the door from someone he wasn’t expecting or an unfamiliar phone number lighting up his screen. He stopped looking over his shoulder, thinking that, _hey_ , with his heart pounding in his chest, _that voice sounds a lot like…,_ but he let it go. All that was for fuck all apparently though, wasn’t it?

There was so much going on in Louis’s mind now, all _HarryHarryHarry_ , and _XavierXavierXavier_. Everything felt like it was crashing down around him, and he was scared and _slightly_ pissed, and all together terrified. Never a good combination for Louis to be feeling.

He shook his thoughts out of the way when he felt a hand on his shoulder, turning to face Niall.

“Hey mate, it’s good yeah? You pretty much got what you wanted Lou. Think about that,” Niall tried, smiling apprehensively at Louis. Beneath the enthusiasm he was trying to radiate onto Louis, Louis could see there was a slight look of uneasiness while he squeezed Louis’s shoulder firmly, reminding his best mate that he was there for him. Louis saw it, had known Niall too long not to, and it probably shouldn’t have, but it calmed his nerves that he wasn’t the only one absolutely terrified, but barely just.

He nodded slowly, not entirely focused on what was happening outside of his head. It kinda felt like there was a hurricane going on inside his brain, a complete mess of, _what does this mean?_ , and, _what’s going to happen?_ , and eventually, _what do I do now?,_ but nobody else could see it, and absolutely nobody could understand. Hell, Louis didn’t understand really.

He concentrated enough to thank Gabriel, shaking his hand before he and Niall were walking out to the lobby, Niall keeping him anchored, keeping him from floating away into his thoughts that threatened to do just that. It was a weird feeling.

He could see Harry exiting the courtroom behind him with his peripheral vision, a relieved grin still on his face as he spoke eagerly with his team. Just for a second, it made Louis smile slightly, seeing Harry so utterly happy, the most he has in the last two months, maybe even years now that he thinks about it.

Louis was just about to look away when Harry turned his head too, green meeting blue and Louis’s whole body went stiff, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. What surprised him though, especially because Louis didn’t think it was possible, Harry’s smile grew just that much more, enough for Louis to see clearly. Harry pulled his grin back from bordering on manic right away, like he realized how crazy he might look, smiling so brightly, but he traded it for a soft, private little smile instead, the one Louis remembers being reserved for him and it make his stomach jump and butterflied fly around down there. Harry turns back to his lawyer before Louis could get himself to react, but Louis feels just a little lighter, smiling down to the floor softly and imaging the look on the man’s face. God, he loved him.

Fuck.

Gabriel walks over to him then, grabbing his arm softly but firmly, all business like again, just like he’d been in the court room. “They need us to make a visitation schedule.”

Louis was nodding before he even processed the words, deciding not to ask questions and just follow, figuring everything he was desperate to know would be explained in a couple of minutes. He left Niall in the lobby, happy to sit and wait in the chairs that were arranged out by the entrance, and they were shown to a conference room shortly, one with a long wooden table and twelve or so swivel chairs surrounding it.

The door was shut behind them before Louis had a chance to sit down or even process the room’s furnishing any more than the table and chairs, clicking shut as soon as Harry and his team walked in. They were gestured at to sit, and each of them pulled out a chair and sat themselves in it, Louis and his lawyer on one side, and Harry and his on the other, before Gabriel was pulling out a pile of documents he had kept stored in a folder and beginning. 

-

Louis had been difficult, he knew that. He knew it by the way Harry’s lawyer and even Gabriel kept huffing, and he knew it by the defeated look in Harry’s eye every time Louis refused another compromise.

And truthfully, Louis didn’t know _why_ he was being so unagreeable, so stubborn, why he couldn’t just _decide_. He thought maybe it was because he liked control, loved it, and everything going on was so out of his own discretion, out of his _control_. Maybe that’s why. Because honestly, half the schedules the lawyers had worked out so far would have been acceptable, great even, but every time he gave his opinion, he found a way to dismiss it.

Everyone in the room was getting frustrated. Both the men’s’ lawyers had already yelled at each other a couple times, Harry’s over Louis being so unhelpful (but in much, er… _less professional_ terms), and Louis’s by stating that Louis had a majority of custody, meaning that he had the right to disagree with whatever he wanted to, which, by the look on Harry’s lawyer’s face when he heard that, was apparently very true.

They had been sitting in the conference room for at least three hours, drawing up agreement after agreement, document after document, all to which Louis or Harry (usually, almost always, pretty much _only_ Louis) disagreed with.

They were all exhausted from sitting here, that much was obvious, trying to come to some type of agreement and they were probably on their thirtieth proposal by now. Each party had parted to opposite sides of the conference room to discuss it thoroughly before sitting back down again, just like the other twenty-nine-ish, and now here they were, trying for the next.

And Louis was so, _so_ close to being difficult again, refusing to accept it and continue his rebellious streak that he’d decided to start that afternoon. But right as he began to speak, he caught Harry’s eye.

And he looked so _tired_ , so exhausted like he used to after he had spent the whole night studying for an exam back in Uni, or when Louis and him had a fight and he just wanted to crawl into bed with the love of his life, forget why they were even disagreeing on something. Louis hated it. One look was able to crush Louis, one look at Harry and how defeated he looked - like he _wanted_ to give up but would never even _dream_ of it because it’s his _son_ \- and it was enough make Louis pause.

Suddenly it wasn’t about proving his power anymore, irritating everyone else around him, being difficult just for the fun of it. Harry looked just like the boy Louis fell in love with, small and confused, and Louis just _couldn’t_.

He sighed. “Okay.”

The three of them practically snapped their necks to looks at him and it would have been amusing in another situation Louis thinks as he suddenly has three pairs of eyes on him, but the only ones he saw were Harry’s, hopeful and pleased, practically beaming at Louis.

So Louis guesses it’s probably too late to back out now, to crush Harry’s hopes even more, which means Xavier’s now spending five days a month with Harry.

So.

They signed the documents quickly, and Louis assumed the rush from Harry’s lawyer was so he couldn’t back out again, especially with the way his eyes kept darting towards him and he looks like he’s going to strangle Louis when Louis takes a couple extra minutes to read over the contract and keeps setting the pen down. Then they were standing, both lawyers shaking hands like the hadn’t just been yelling at each other for the last couple hours, and the door was opening and _finally_.

Louis’s adrenaline all seemed to leave in the moment, and he was just so tired, mentally exhausted from the day. Everyone parted ways once the doors opened and when his lawyer really was finally gone after a couple more words, Louis walked back into the lobby, shoulders slumped.

Niall was still there, sitting in one of the seats and scrolling through his phone, and Louis couldn’t be more grateful. He probably would’ve ended up sleeping on the courthouse steps if Niall wasn’t there to be quite honest.

Niall stood up once he caught sight of Louis, pocketing his phone and walking over in quick strides. He sent a reassuring smile to Louis before he was pulling him into a tight hug, just what louis needed.

Louis went pliant in his best mate’s arms, sighing out into his shoulder and closing his eyes, letting himself just rest, even for the couple of seconds. “How ‘bout we go get Xavier yeah?”

Louis nodded sleepily into Niall’s shoulder.

-

The second Louis saw the door open to Liam’s house and a little curly headed boy run out, his face lit up. He squatted down and opened his arms for his boy to run into, full speed.

Xavier bumped into his chest when they collided, burrowing his head in his father’s suit jacket, “Daddy!”

“Hi baby,” Louis sighed out, squeezing his boy tighter before letting him go and pulling him away from his chest to look at him. “Did you have fun Bub?”

The toddler nodded ecstatically with all the enthusiasm a three-year-old could muster, “Yeah Daddy! Uncle Liam gave us icecream and we watched movies and, and - and, WE HAD DOUGHNUTS DADDY!”  
  


Louis shook his head, holding his boy tight in his arms again and looking up to the doorway where Liam was standing, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed and a soft, fond smile on his face. Louis stood up, picking his boy up with him and settling him on his hip. “Guess I’m going to have to talk to Li about the doughnuts, huh baby?”

Xavier shook his head in his father’s shoulder, refusing and apparently ready to do anything to defend Liam. “No Daddy, only had one.”

“Well…” Louis pretends to contemplate it while his boy looks up at his with big doe green eyes, “I guess that’s okay. But now I don’t have anybody to eat icecream with tonight.” Louis pouts.

Xavier perks up. “I will Daddy! ‘M still hungry.”

Louis hums his acknowledgement with a fond smile to his boy, placing a kiss on the toddler’s forehead indulgently in lieu of a response before turning back to Liam, “Thanks Li,” he says, sending a grateful smile to one of his best mates. The ‘for everything’ went unspoken.

Liam nodded as his answer, and Louis knew he understood.

-

It was already almost eight by the time Niall, Louis, and Xavier were stepping up to the entrance of Louis’s flat. Xavier needed to be in bed very soon for school tomorrow, probably should have been in bed an hour ago honestly, but the boy was still bouncing around in Louis’s arms, beaming at everyone and everything he saw.

Louis figured the doughnuts and sensory overload would wear off soon enough, and the toddler would be three sheets to the wind by the time Louis was tucking him in though, so he didn’t bother to say anything about it.

They stopped in front of the door that was labeled with the Tomlinson flat number, and Niall turned to Louis.

“Do you want me to stay?”

Louis gave a tired smile to his best friend. “That’s okay Ni. I appreciate it, but I should probably get him into bed as soon as possible. And I think I need to explain Harry to him, so it’s probably best if I’m alone with him tonight. Who knows how that’s going to go. Don’t think he quite understands why I’ve been so busy for the last two months.”

He speaks slowly, voice heavy with sleep, and Niall just nods, pulling Louis into a tight hug. “I love you Lou. Come get me or Ally if you need anything.”

Louis sighs into the embrace, Xavier still on his hip, and mumbles out an, “Love you too Ni. Thank you mate.”

They pull back after that, Niall bidding one more goodbye and placing a kiss on Xavier’s cheek, and then he’s gone, disappearing around the corner and making his way to his own flat a couple buildings down.

Louis turns around, grabbing the key out of his pocket and turning it in the door, pushing it open and carrying himself and Xavier inside.

“Why don’t we get you ready for bed, huh Bub?” He asks the boy in his arms, who is already getting sleepier by the second, and setting his keys down.

By the time Xavier is dried off from his bath, teeth and hair brushed, and into a pair of warm pajamas, Louis is exhausted. He carries the toddler to his room, setting him down in his bed and covering Xavier in his Elsa comforter. He sits down on the bed by his boy’s head while running his fingers through his curls, the small eyes fluttering shut and open again.

“Baby?”

The little boy opens his eyes again, heavy with sleep and looks up to his father, “Yeah Daddy?” His voice is so soft and quiet and Louis’s heart melts at it. He knows the boy is tired, it’s past his bedtime and he’s been going full speed all day, but he also knows it’s something they need to talk about sooner rather than later, for Louis’s sake if anything.

He runs his hands through the curls some more as he continues. “Well. You know how you have another daddy, babe?”

The toddler’s eyes light up at the word ‘daddy’. “Mhm,” the boy nods.

“Well,” Louis starts, pushing some curls out of Xavier’s face. How does he explain this to a three-year-old? There wasn’t exactly a chapter titled _“How to Tell Your Toddler His Other Father Who Didn’t Know He Existed Until A Few Months Ago Is Here Now And Wants To See Him”_ in the parenting book Louis ready four years ago. “Well, he’s back now Bub, and he would really like to see you sometimes. Is that okay love?”

The toddler nods, mostly just paying attention to the word ‘daddy’ and smiling contentedly at it. Louis takes that as a good enough answer though; there’s not many ways you can explain this to a child this young.

He stands up from the bed, pulling the covers tighter around Xavier and leaning down to kiss his head. “Night baby.”

The toddler mumbles back a “Night Daddy,” around a yawn, his eyes closing as Louis walks towards the exit. Louis turns off the lights, cracking the door and looking back at his boy’s sleeping form one more time before walking back down the hallway to his own bedroom, exhausted. Maybe this was all going to be okay after all.

**_x._ **

Louis wakes up the next morning to his alarm. He's still exhausted and even with the seven and a half hours of sleep he got, it’s still not even close to enough.

He climbs out of the bed like he does every Monday, convincing himself that he just needs to get going to wake himself up, and sloppily making his bed - really just throwing the comforter over it and making sure the pillows are close enough to the top, but he counts it - and walking to his closet.

He decides on a pair of light blue jeans, ripped at the knees and rolled and cuffed at the bottom. They’re not skinny jeans, fitting loosely over his legs, but they still manage to hug his bum nicely, so. He pulls a white graphic tee over his head next, and a zip up black hoodie over that, pulling the zipper up a little over halfway so only the top of his tee shows. Everything’s oversized, his jacket giving him sweater paws, and he loves it.

He slips on a pair of socks before going into the bathroom, running through the basics and getting himself ready for the day. Then he’s in Xavier’s room, waking the boy up and changing him into a pair of sweats for school and a tiny orange long sleeve, brushing his teeth and hair in the bathroom.

He takes them into the kitchen, setting Xavier on the island in front of him and keeping a hand on the boy to make sure he doesn’t fall while he’s opening the fridge, pulling out the jug of milk and filling a sippy cup.

He hands it to Xavier, letting the boy nurse it as he puts the toddler in a seat. Louis walks over to the fridge again, opening it and pulling out a carton of eggs. He places a pan on the stove, cracking a couple eggs into it and stirring.

When he’s done, he separates the food onto two plates, walking them over to the table and placing one in front of Xavier, giving the boy a kiss on the top of his head, “Here you go Bub. Eat up.”

The boy takes the eggs happily, then reaching up and grabbing his cup, shaking it in his hand and looking at his father, “Daddy, more milk please.”

Louis smiles, taking the cup from the boy and going back into the kitchen to refill it. If there’s one thing he did right with his boy, it was teaching him manners.

-

The meeting went well that morning. Harry and Louis were noticeably less tense around each other. It wasn’t a miracle, because they by no means were acting like they used to be able to, all those years ago, but it was a start, and Louis agreeing to the terms of the visitation schedule might have been the olive branch they needed, even if it took three hours to get it.

And no, it’s not perfect, but it’s something. They still need to talk, to settle on something, Louis knows that. Harry knows that. It’s strained when they make eye contact or speak to each other, but it’s getting better. Louis’s chest doesn’t feel so heavy, and Harry is trying.

-

It’s after school Monday when Harry knocks on the door, Louis looking up from where he’s responding to emails on his computer at his desk. “You can come in,” Louis prompts, pushing back from his desk and watching as Harry ventures further into the room.

Harry walks within three feet of Louis before he stops, leaning his bum back onto one of the desks to balance himself and arms crossed leisurely over his waist. “You can't be mad at me, Lou.” And that’s how Harry opts to start the conversation. Well, let it never be told that he's anything less than direct, even if he doesn’t make much sense.

Louis raises an eyebrow. He knows Harry isn’t here in hostility, based on the use of the nickname, so he’s just kinda really confused at the moment. “What?”

Harry sighs, looking down at his nails and picking at them a little. And yeah, he’s definitely not here to fight, his demeanor soft and vulnerable, timid. “I know you’re not happy that I went to court. But I wanted to be in Xavier’s life and that’s the only way I knew how to do it.”

Louis sighs, “Harry, that’s not--”

“No, Lou. Let me finish.” And Louis almost smiles despite himself, because Harry’s practically pouting, trying his hardest to get the words out and it’s just so fucking adorable. Louis loves it, even if he shouldn’t. “I know you’re not happy about it, but I needed to. I need you to understand that.”

Louis sighs, pushing up from his chair and going to rest his bum back on the edge of his desk, arms crossed like Harry’s: in a defensive gesture, but not closed off. “I know, Haz,” And yeah, okay, they’re both using nicknames now apparently, “I just--” _I’m so scared you’re gonna leave him too and that it’s gonna break us both._ “--I have to be careful. You know that.”

Harry sighs, nodding slowly. “I know, Lou,” and it’s so quiet, barely a whisper, and for the first time, Louis thinks he might really know, might really understand why Louis is being so cautious about this.

They’re both quiet for a couple minutes, a comfortable silence, Harry looking around the room and studying it while he thinks, and Louis looking out the wall of windows, doing some thinking of his own. Louis turns his head back to face Harry when he hears him speak. “When can I see him?”

Louis shakes his head a little, deciding. “I don’t know,” is his answer.

And Harry leaves it at that for a couple more moments, this time him being the one to look out the window. He still looking out it, but not really focusing on it, when he vocalizes more of his thoughts, “Can it be soon?”

And they’re talking so softly, like it’s such a fragile matter, which it is, Louis supposes. They’re calm and their words are calculated and careful, serene almost. “Maybe,” Louis answers.

Silence again. Louis’s thoughts are loud in his brain, different parts arguing over a) letting Harry in completely - letting himself have what he really wants, b) being meticulous about it, or c) blocking him out completely - just to protect himself, even if it hurts anyway.

“Saturday.”

This time it’s Harry who looks up in surprise. “Saturday?”

Louis nods, because yes, he’s sure (at least 98%), and he has to start somewhere. “You can see him Saturday.”

Harry beams at that and it makes Louis’s insides feel funny. “When?”

Louis thinks about it. “Afternoon. You can come pick him up from the flat.”

Harry just nods, an ever-present smile on his face that Louis knows isn’t going away anytime soon.

-

The week passes quickly. Each day is filled with the same routine: Louis waking up, getting ready, waking Xavier up, getting him ready, making breakfast, arriving to school, teaching, picking Xavier back up, going home, spending time with his boy, and the occasional occurrence when Niall or Liam or Zayn show up, opting to watch a game of footie or talk over a beer when Xavier is already fast asleep.

It’s Saturday before Louis knows it, the first Saturday of the month, and today’s the day. Louis doesn’t know how to feel.

He does know, however, that sitting in bed thinking about it isn’t going to change anything. So he gets up, going through the usual routine and distracting himself as best as he can: getting Xavier up, going on a grocery run, making lunch, playing a game, grading papers.

It’s not a whole lot, but it distracts Louis well enough and then the doorbell is ringing, Louis calling out “Just a minute,” and finishing writing ‘ _A+’_ on the last spelling quiz he was marking, before standing up from the table and walking towards the entrance.

The door swings open to Harry, dressed in a pair of black skinnies and a black hoodie, hair brushed out of his face. He’s gorgeous, is what he is, even in plain, simple streetwear, and Louis kinda just wants to stand there and admire him, forget about all the worries running wild in his head.

But no, he can't be young, reckless, in-love Louis right now. He needs to be responsible, protective, father Louis.

So he steps back, leaving the door open for Harry to get another foot into. He’s not excited for this now that he’s thinking about it. He’s worried. He’s pretty confident that Harry isn’t going to get Xavier killed or put his life in danger or anything drastic, but safety is only one thing on Louis’s long list of what ifs. What if Xavier gets scared? What if he gets hurt? What if he just doesn’t like Harry, gets all shy with him and doesn’t know how to act?

So yeah, Louis’s worried, and he really, really wants this to go well, but he doesn’t have a way to make sure that happens, can't even go with. Stupid fucking court.

Louis’s pulled out of his thoughts when he feels little hands on the back of his left thigh, gripping at his joggers and a head burrowing into his leg. He turns around, looking down at the thing clinging to him and smiling fondly. And all Louis can think now is he and Harry did good, their child is so fucking adorable.

“Hey baby,” Louis coos down to the boy, who just burrows his head into Louis’s leg more, hiding his face.

So he’s shy then. Not a normal occurrence. Huh.

Louis places a hand on his boy’s head, caressing him to reassure him that it’s okay, he's safe. “Come out and say hi Bub,” Louis murmurs to the toddler. Xavier doesn’t move though, just keeps his face hidden and his hands still with a death grip on his joggers.

When the boy shakes his head a little into Louis’s leg, curls bouncing around, Louis sighs, squatting down and turning to his boy, making him face him. “Hey, love. It’s okay baby… You know how we were talking about your other daddy yeah? This is him. Harry’s nice, Bub. Promise.”

Xavier meets his blue eyes then, searching them for some kind of reassurance. “Daddy?”

Louis nods softly, “Yeah baby, daddy. Harry.”

“ ’Arry?”

Louis nods, and no, his boy still can't say his ‘ _h_ ’s too well, but it’s kind of endearing really, and Louis loves it.

He points over to Harry then, and Xavier’s eyes travel with his hand, green orbs meeting the man standing in front of him. He nods slowly, like he’s processing, and then he takes a step, stumbling towards Harry.

He looks up at the tall stranger with all the awe in the world. “Hi, ‘Arry,” he manages out, voice small and quiet.

And Harry beams at the boy with so much fond Louis thinks Harry might make good competition for himself. Louis knows the look, because he recognizes it. He knows it’s the moment that having a son is actually setting in. Because yes, Harry knew Xavier was his before, but it’s so different like this, when they're in front of each other and suddenly Harry understands this in a whole different way, the moment that changes his life.

For Louis, the moment was giving birth. For Harry, it’s properly meeting his boy four years later, and the same amount of love that Louis had (has) is radiating off Harry now.

Harry squats down then, staying eye level with the toddler to seem less daunting. He smiles softly, “Hi bud, we seem to have the same hair, huh?” When Harry says it, he reaches a hand out, carefully twirling a strand in his fingers before letting go.

And Xavier’s giggling, full of joy and happiness and it’s Harry’s new favorite sound. It paints a pretty picture, the two of them, and Louis watches with everything he’s got, committing every detail to memory. 

Xavier reaches out next, stumbling another step further and putting his hands in Harry’s hair, playing with it gently and smiling in awe at it. Harry lets him of course, and he looks up to Louis while Xavier keeps running his tiny hands through the locks.

Louis smiles down at Harry. “Come in,” he says, and yeah, this is going pretty well, Louis recons.

Louis leads Harry to the couch, and they sit, Xavier still messing with Harry’s curls and sitting in the man’s lap without a care in the world. Harry places a protective arm around Xavier, careful not to let him fall backwards off the couch with all the jerky movements he’s making while tugging on the strands with small giggles and laughs.

Louis covers all the bases then, giving Harry rules, telling him how to help Xavier with the bathroom, what the toddler does and doesn’t like. Harry nods along to everything, making mental notes here and there of things to remember.

And then their standing up, Louis grabbing Xavier’s jacket and crouching down in front of his boy, slipping it on, “Be careful, yeah? And have fun?”

Xavier beams, excited. “Okay Daddy.”

Louis scoops the boy into his arms then and gives him a kiss on the forehead, Xavier reciprocating with a sloppy one of his own, and the next thing Louis knows, he’s running out the open door, happy and bouncing, ready to go wherever his new friend is taking him.

Louis stands up, sighing, and Harry looks at him. “It’s gonna be okay Lou. I’ve got him. I’m not letting anything happen.”

Louis nods. He guesses that’s all that he can ask.

Harry turns around, facing the door and about to walk out when Louis suddenly reaches an arm out, grabbing Harry’s shoulder tightly and spinning him around, giving him a more than serious look, one that tells Harry he’s not messing around.

“Harry, so help me God, if he comes back anything less than ecstatic, or with even a scratch on him…”

Louis doesn’t even look practically scary, just pleading and Harry nods, certain, “I know Lou. I’ve got him.”

Louis sees the sincerity in his eyes, and he lets the curly headed man go, nodding.

Harry gives him one more reassuring nod before he’s gone, walking out the door and grabbing the hand of the toddler who’s waiting there with tons of pent up energy and smiling down at the boy, asking him what he wants to do.

-

Louis opens the door to the flat four hours later, faced with a very giddy Xavier and a Harry who’s holding the toddler’s hand firmly, not letting him run away like he’d most probably try to do otherwise.

Louis smiles down at the boy, “You have fun Bub?”

Xavier’s jumping up and down, and as soon as Harry lets go of his hand, he’s hopping into the flat, beaming up to his father. “Daddy! We had ice cream and went to a movie and went minigolfing and - and - we had ICECREAM!!”

He’s speaking quickly, rambling through his words with what Louis can only imagine is a sugar high, and Louis ruffles the boy’s curls before giving Harry an amused look, tilting his head. “I see someone had sugar.”

Harry winces, giving Louis an apologetic expression. “ _Sorry_. It’s just, he asked, and I had trouble saying no.”

Louis just smiles, shaking his head. “I can't either. ‘S alright.”

Harry still looks a little uneasy, but he’s smiling, and Louis thinks that’s reassurance enough. He looks back at Xavier, where the boy is already sat on the couch, bouncing around and trying to get the telly to work. “Zee, why don’t you come say bye, love?”

Xavier perks up, jumping off the couch and running as fast as his little legs will carry him towards the front door, ramming right into Harry’s leg and holding onto it. “Bye, ‘Arry.”

Harry bends down, hugging the boy back and giving him a kiss on the forehead, “Bye babe.” And then the boy’s gone, back on the couch.

Louis gestures towards the hallway, and Harry exits first, Louis following after and clicking the door shut behind him softly. Louis crosses his arms over his chest, a draft of the cold November wind blowing through his tee. “So…”

“It went well Lou.” Harry promises quickly, assuredly, and Louis guesses he’s being pretty transparent if Harry knew that’s what was searching for, although, then again, it’s always been easy for Harry to read him.

“Okay,” Louis nods. He knows it did, based on Xavier’s reaction, but he just needed to hear it. “Okay.”

Harry’s quiet for a minute, lets Louis think before he continues, “When do I get him again?”

Louis leans his head back against the door frame, closing his eyes. He doesn’t know. “I don’t know.”

It’s quiet after and there’s no answer. He almost thinks maybe he didn’t even say it out loud. Louis holds his head back up and opens his eyes except yep, he did say it. He knows because Harry’s staring intently at him, just isn’t dignifying Louis’s answer with a response. Louis sighs, runs a hand over his face and mumbles, “Thursday.”

Harry’s lips tug upward, and he looks proud, proud that he got Louis to give him a definite answer. He nods, repeating ‘Thursday’ and giving a soft goodbye to Louis, before turning around, going to walk down the sidewalk to where Louis presumes, he parked his car.

Expect he doesn’t make it far, because after an inner turmoil in Louis’s brain, he’s instinctively reaching his hand out, gripping Harry’s firm shoulder tightly, and spinning him back around.

He doesn’t give Harry two seconds before he’s pulling him in by his hoodie, pressing their lips together firmly, eyes squeezing shut.

It’s chaste, the kiss, but the weight of it holds so much value, Louis and Harry both know It. It’s over sooner than it started, and Harry is stunned, frozen, unmoving, but he doesn’t look mad. Just shocked, and content even. Louis fists his hands into the black jumper on Harry, squeezing his eyes tightly before opening them and letting out a puff of air, looking into the green irises, and whispering out a soft, “ _Thank you.”_

Harry just nods, lost in a daze, and Louis pulls himself together, coughing once and letting go of Harry. He waves a goodbye before pushing the flat door back open and slipping in without another word. Harry stands there for a moment, just processing, and then he turns and makes his way back to the warmth of his car, a faint smile on his lips and a giddy feeling in his stomach.

**_xi._ **

If Louis’s honest, the only thing he paid attention to during the staff meeting the next Monday morning, was Harry. He couldn’t get the feeling of the curly headed man’s lips out of his brain, like his body was craving it. It was going to be a problem, Louis knew.

But then again, Louis’s not honest, so he’s gonna pretend that ‘parent/teacher conferences’ wasn’t the only thing he heard in the half hour they sat there.

Either way, when Harry dismissed the group of teachers to head back to their respective classes to start their workdays, Louis felt a compelling urge to grab Harry where he stood - gathering up papers he had used for the meeting (Louis still no idea what it was about) - and push their lips together, not let Harry up until they were panting.

That was an extreme, Louis knew it. But he also knew that they were now alone in the conference room and he was blatantly staring at the man in front of him, probably drooling. So, naturally, Louis gave into his every desire (yes, he’s being a tad dramatic while he narrates this in his head, no, he doesn’t care), lunging forward without another thought and grabbing Harry - he seems to be doing that a lot lately - and tugging the man towards him, quickly, so as not to give Harry a chance to question it, pushing their lips together, and _yes_.

This was the feeling Louis had been craving almost desperately for the last thirty-six hours, the minty and sweet taste of Harry’s mouth gliding across his own. Harry let his tension ease quickly, pressing with the same need into Louis, and maybe he needed this just as much as Louis, was craving it like he used to.

Either way, neither of them pull back, their lips molding together in the perfect fit that Louis’s so familiar with and their bodies reacting in sync with each other. Louis was the one to slide his tongue along Harry’s bottom lip, and without hesitation Harry opened his mouth, letting Louis past to explore.

He tasted sweet, a familiar taste that Louis always loved. Suddenly Harry’s tongue was in his mouth, exploring curiously before pulling back out, letting their lips do the work again in open mouthed kisses.

Louis kept the speed, not letting Harry slow them down, and he gripped into Harry’s dress shirt pulling them flush together, lips smacking obscenely. He bit down on Harry’s lip enough that there was no way it wouldn’t be painfully obvious to anyone what they were just doing, not that Louis cares, and a small whimper escapes Harry. He lets his hand wonder up to the nape of Harry’s neck and he pulls at a couple of the free curls, Harry moaning into the kiss and kissing back feverishly. It’s wonderful, all of it, but Louis knows he needed to pull back to make it to his classroom before his students do, cursing the fact that he’s a Responsible Adult ™ and can’t stay here snogging Harry for a couple more minutes.

Their lips part with a wet _pop_ , and Louis opens his eyes, taking in the flustered face of Harry, tongue darting out to wipe his lips and pupils blown, eyes wide, staring into Louis’s own. Louis’s sure he looks just as wrecked, but it’s doing wonders for his ego how quickly he could rile Harry up.

Louis smirks, placing a small pat to Harry’s shoulder, and then letting the man go, grabbing his own folder and exiting the room without a word, Harry watching him go in awe.

He’d have to do that more often, he thought as he made his way back to his own classroom; a pliant, submissive, flustered Harry was definitely something he was growing to like, especially because usually Harry liked to be the one to initiate their kisses. This was new territory and Louis loved it.

-

Louis’s Thursday went quick, as always, and it’s times like these he’s so glad he took his dear and lovely mother’s advice of going after the career he loved, not the one that paid more. It really is less of a job than a hobby anyway.

He’s finished in his room quickly, putting away the few supplies the year twos had used that day, and wiping down counters before he gathered his things.

He made the quick trek down the few hallways it took to get to Niall’s room, and then he entered, being acknowledged by loud voices.

“Hey lads,” Louis greeted to his three best mates, all of which were already in the room and talking around Niall’s desk. Bear and Xavier were at a table, drawing, and Louis walked over to them first, leaning down and placing a kiss to his boy’s forehead before the toddler continued doing whatever it was he was doing with the markers in his hands, an array of green and yellow and red and blue already covering his skin from the mess he was making, along with the paper in front of him that looks just about the same, might even have less marks then his skin. 

When he sits down in Niall’s chair, spinning once, he’s met with three different looks. One of slight concern from Liam, one of excitement from Zayn, and a smirk from Niall.

“What?” Louis raised an eyebrow.

“You’re happy,” Zayn quips, smiling even brighter.

Louis sighed contentedly, leaning back in the black leather chair and closing his eyes, a small smile on his lips too, despite himself. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

This time it’s Niall who speaks up, and Louis could hear the smug in his voice when he comments, “So it wouldn’t happen to be because you kissed a certain curly headed man, would it?”

Louis choked, sitting up in his chair frantically and shooting his eyes open, just gaping at his three best mates, who were either snorting or trying their hardest to not laugh, to which that was failing too.

“Mate… you… should see - your _face_ ,” Zayn snickered, clutching his stomach and choking his words out in between fits of laughter. Niall and Liam were laughing just as hard.

Louis gave each other them a pointed, unimpressed look.

When he didn’t say anything else, Liam spoke up, “You’re not denying it…”

Louis pouted, leaning back in his chair and flicking his eyes to where Bear and Xavier were giggling, albeit about something completely different probably. “We’re just kissing,” he grumbled out, “--occasionally.”

“Occasionally being a Monday morning after you thought everyone had gone back to their classrooms?” Louis blanked, just staring at his best mates.

“Yeah, everyone heard you mate, snogging the boss in the conference room.”

Liam, Zayn, and Niall all started laughing again, and Louis rolled his eyes, leaning back in the chair and choosing to ignore the first-class idiots in from of him.

That’s when there’s a knock at the door, Niall, Zayn, and Liam all still laughing and turning their necks to see who it was.

Of course, naturally, because the world hates Louis, it’s Harry.

Louis coughed, straightening up and elbowing Niall… _who elbowed Zayn_ … _who elbowed Liam_ , who eventually shut up.

Harry raised an eyebrow, “Hey… ?”

“Hey mate, we were just talking about you,” Niall responds quickly, breaking off into another fit of laughter as Louis squawks at his side. Harry’s eyebrows rise higher, if that’s possible, and Louis mumbles a, “shut up,” to Niall, elbowing him in the ribs again and looking away from Harry so that the heat he can feel rising on his cheeks will go down. Harry doesn’t say anything about it when he looks up though, so it either worked, or Harry’s just too polite to call him out on it. Probably the latter if Louis’s honest.

He smiles at the man and Zayn, who had always been Harry’s closest mate in Uni, got up from where he was leaning, walking towards Harry. “Hey, mate,” he greeted, wrapping his hands around Harry and pulling him in without anything else.

The look on Harry’s face was priceless at the action, and Louis wanted to laugh.

Harry’s eyes immediately found Louis’s when Zayn let go of him, and he looked confused and happy, and Louis really, _really_ wanted to laugh at the surprise that was written all over his face again. Instead he opted for climbing out of the chair and walking around the desk to Harry, raising an eyebrow.

Harry seemed to get what he was asking. “ ‘M here for Xavier,” he explained, nodding towards the boy.

Right, it’s Thursday.

“Oh. Yeah. I’ll get his bag.” Louis turned around, walking around Niall’s desk and grabbing the Spiderman bag, holding it in his hand.

When he turned back, Harry was crouching at the table by Xavier, Xavier proudly showing Harry the drawing he had been working on, and Harry responding with something along the lines of, “It looks great bud, a true masterpiece,” only making the boy beam more.

“Your fond is showing,” Niall leaned over from the desk, whispering in Louis’s ear from where he stood and Louis snapped out of it, glaring at his best mate and slapping him on the arm, mumbling a, “Shut up.” Niall smirked some more.

He walked forward then, handing the bag to Harry who took it with a smile. Harry picked Xavier up in his arms once Bear had grabbed his drawing and gone to show his own father, holding him on his hip.

Louis smiled at his boy, “Hi baby, what you got there?”

Xavier rested his head on Harry’s shoulder and smiled at Louis, lifting up the drawing and showing his father. “My drawing Daddy. Made it myself,” the boy proclaimed with a proud smile.

Louis carefully grabbed it from the toddler’s tiny hands, looking down at it in his own and admiring it, “Looks great baby,” Louis smiled, leaning down to kiss his boy on the head and inhaling the smell of Harry’s cologne with it. It smelled like pine and vanilla and it was intoxicating, made Louis’s head swim with thoughts of _HarryHarryHarry._

He straightened back up, smiling at his boy who was nuzzling into the fabric of Harry’s shirt, and looking at the latter, “What time are you dropping him off?”

“Erm, six thirty? Probably? Just going for dinner so it shouldn’t be long,” Harry answered, looking unsure and seeming less confident now. Louis didn’t know why, but when he heard quiet voices behind him, he figured it had to do with the fact that his best mates - and Harry’s former and maybe now current ones - were listening in on their conversation, doing a sorry job of hiding it.

Louis is proved right when Harry looks over his shoulder, biting his lip thoughtfully and looking like he’s contemplating something, “Um, do you, erm, wanna come with? To like - dinner?”

And Louis’s taken aback by that, sure it shows on his face, because really? Harry wants to spend his only night alone with his son, with Louis too?

At Louis’s silence, Harry’s eyebrows furrow, looking even less certain now. “I mean, you don’t have to. I’m sure you’d rather have your only night free to yourself, but I just figured - um, Xavier would probably like it if you were there, and um, free food…?”

Louis smiled much fonder than he meant to. Harry was rambling. Cute. He nodded his head at Harry softly, and Harry looked hopeful, “Yeah?”

Louis nodded again, reassuring, “Yeah, H.”

Harry practically beams at that - the nickname or the response, Louis doesn’t know - dimple popping, and bouncing Xavier in his arms, “Okay, great - um, yeah. Good, good. Let’s go then yeah?”

Louis nods, looking softly into Harry’s eyes for a moment more before Harry turns, holding the bookbag in one hand and the toddler in his other. Louis follows after him then, turning around just once to say bye to his best mates behind him, and completely ignoring the smirks on their faces as he goes.

-

Harry chose a Mexican hole-in-the-wall diner for dinner, and Louis can’t say he’s surprised. It was just the kind of endearing place Harry of all people would pick - a small, family run business that was kid friendly and made messy, but delicious food. Very Harry.

They were one of two families there, the other a young woman and her two small children, along with what looked like could be her husband or boyfriend.

The hostess - a young teenage girl with light brown hair - sat them in a booth in the corner, right up against the window so Xavier could look out at the car’s passing and promised to have a waiter to them in a minute.

Xavier was sat on Harry’s lap while they looked at the menus, and to Louis’s great surprise, the feeling he had at the picture wasn’t jealousy or betrayal of any kind, like he thought Xavier should be sitting with him and not Harry. In fact he felt kinda giddy at the sight, his boy being so happy to sit with the man - his father - that he had only hung out with once. Yeah, Louis quite liked it.

A waiter in an apron walked up to their table a couple minutes later, and Harry and Louis both ordered supreme tacos - one beef platter, and one chicken - and Louis ordered a simple quesadilla for Xavier. When the man left, taking the menus with them and informing that the food would be ready in twenty, Harry was already staring at Louis.

Or well more specifically, at his mouth.

Louis smirked when he caught him, slowly darting his tongue out and wetting his lips, waiting for Harry to look at him.

It took a minute. His lips were parted, and his pupils looked a little bigger, just watching Louis’s every movement. “You okay, H?”

His head snapped up, eyeing Louis and frozen. Louis smirked some more.

He reached his arms over the table then, sliding them under Xavier’s arms and carefully lifting the toddler over the tabletop, settling him in his own lap and looking down at his boy, “Zee, can you tell Harry it’s not polite to stare?”

Xavier beamed at the name, “’Arry?”

Louis nodded, flicking his gaze to where Harry was still frozen; not such in a daze, but just observing the two in front of him, Louis and their son. “Yeah babe.”

Xavier nodded, beaming, turning around to face his other father, “Hi, ‘Arry,” is all he says, smiling up at the man who shares his curls.

Harry smiles down at the boy with what can only be described as wholehearted and body encompassing love. “Hi baby. Did Daddy take you?”

Xavier nods with the cutest fucking smile, the little traitor. “Yeah? Wanna come back over here and draw with me then bud?”

Xavier nods again, reaching his arms up for Harry to pick him up and situate him on the other side of the counter and Louis just watches, watches as Xavier cuddles into Harry’s side and picks up a crayon, talking animatedly with Harry, and this time it’s Louis who’s watching Harry’s lips, missing them a little as he watches them laugh fondly and smile at his boy.

The food came out soon after and Harry and Louis and Xavier ate happily, Harry reaching over to help Xavier cut his food and Louis stealing a couple bites of Harry’s while he did so. They made easy conversation, mostly indulging Xavier and whatever crazy story he had come up with to tell, smiling fondly at the boy and offering little bits of insight when the toddler looked up at either of them expectantly.

Just as they were boxing the leftovers, the woman who had been sitting at the table across the small restaurant with her family came up, smiling at Louis and watching as Xavier stood on the seat, bouncing happily as he made toddler like comments at the passing traffic.

“Is he yours?” she asks with a smile, and she almost looks fond looking at Xavier. Maybe it’s a parent thing for children in general, Louis wonders. He nods then, scratching and rubbing Xavier’s back softly with a smile, “Yeah,” he sighs out.

“He’s adorable, you guys make a lovely family,” she comments, and Louis slowly turns his head, smiling at the thought but about to correct her anyway, when Harry speaks up with a content sigh of, “I know.”

The woman smiles brighter at that, chuckling a little when Louis ducks his head to hide his blush. Harry just sounds so _fond_ , is the thing, sounds like Louis feels.

Louis lifts his head to thank the woman quietly, a bloom of red on his cheeks, and then the woman is leaving, wishing them a good night and meeting up with her kids and the man who are waiting at the door, the man giving her a private smile - one just for her - and wrapping his arm around her softly, before they're leaving, Louis, Harry, and Xavier not long after them.

-

Harry walks Louis up to the flat door, Xavier in his arms and resting his head on his shoulder. Louis belatedly realizes he’s going to have to have Niall drive him and Xavier tomorrow as he walks, given that he left his own at the school when he left with Harry, and honestly, Louis can't find it in him to care.

They stop in front of the door, Louis grabbing out his key and unlocking it before turning to Harry. Harry stoops over slightly, carefully handing Xavier over to Louis’s arms and straightening back up. Louis presses a fleeting kiss the tired toddler’s hair before he looks back at Harry and smiles softly. “Thank you. For tonight, H.”

Harry just nods, looking out into the parking lot and running a hand through his curls before he turns back, Louis’s gaze casting downwards while he thinks about the couple thoughts running through his head. “Hey,” Harry whispers, moving a finger up to Louis’s jaw to tilt his chin to catch his attention. Louis flickers his eyes up and blue meets _green green green_ eyes, Xavier breathing even puffs of breath on Louis’s chest and looking about ready to crash. Harry leans in before Louis can give it another thought, capturing Louis’s lips in his gently. It’s just a soft peck, their lips sliding against each other for a chaste few seconds, but it’s slow and sensual in the same way and Louis is addicted to it.

“Been waiting to do that all night,” Harry sighs when he pulls back, and he’s content, relaxed.

Louis grins, big and bright and the smile won’t go away till bed, Louis knows, maybe not even then. Harry leans in then, pressing a kiss to Xavier’s hair too and pulling back with a tired smile. “Bye bud. By Lou.”

And after one more fleeting glance, he turns around, making his way back down the sidewalk and to his car and Louis watches him go, leaning against the door frame with Xavier in his arms.

“Inside?” the toddler asks, looking up to his father with a tired gleam to his eyes, rubbing his eyes sleepily, and Louis shifts his focus back to his son.

“Yeah, baby. Inside,” he murmurs, clicking the door open and carrying himself and Xavier in, the boy already three sheets to the wind and ready to crash. Louis is too; he’s content and happy and tired, but he’s _happy_.

**_xii._ **

Louis doesn’t exactly know how he got roped into sitting on a thirty-minute bus ride to a pumpkin patch and apple orchard in the middle of November with a bunch of three and four-year-old’s, but here he is anyway.

It could have to do with the fact that Niall wouldn’t shut up about asking him to chaperone until he agreed, maybe that it was a day to hang out with his toddler and best mates - since Liam as the vice principal had to go to, and Zayn volunteered when he realized the other three were going - or if it was because someone happened to inform him that the principal would also be attending.

Louis’s not admitting anything.

Ally and Maya had shown up too, and at this point Louis thinks this might have just been a self-indulgent field trip, a paid day off from work for the seven of them to hang out with their closest friends, their only duty being to make sure they don’t lose a toddler in a corn maze.

So now Louis’s standing in the front parking lot of Little Harbor Primary at 8:20, doing a head count of the group of toddlers with Xavier in his arms, because yes, out of all the days to do it, the boy had chosen today to be clingy. Louis knew it as soon as he had tried to put the boy down to grab their bags to load onto the bus when they had first arrived at the school, and the toddler’s lip had instantly started trembling, eyes glassy and looking like he could cry at any moment. Louis had sighed, hushing him gently and snuggling him into his chest, cooing sweetly into his ear and agreeing not to set him down.

Each child was dressed in their warmest clothes, their parents stuffing them in heavy coats and sweatpants, making sure no skin was showing that could get them sick with something. All that considered though, it was a relatively nice day, mid fifties, and for once, no rain, a rare occurrence in London. 

When they had finished counting the group of forty kids that would be going to the orchard today, Liam stood at the front. “Okay everybody. If the chaperones could grab their group so that we can start loading up, we’ll be out of here in twenty.”

So, each parent-teacher-faculty member did, making their cluster of toddlers hold hands and leading them in a line towards the bus doors, helping the kids up the high steps as they climbed on.

Niall did another head count on the bus, just to make sure they weren’t missing anyone or counting wrong before he headed back up to the front, telling Liam - who was the one driving, since he somehow had a bus license - that they were good to go.

The chaperones were taking the first three rows of seats, squishing into them in pairs, and Louis was just about to sit down in the front row across from Niall and Zayn - Maya and Ally behind them talking already - when the bus doors opened, and a head of curls climbed up into view.

To Louis’s utter surprise, Xavier perked up against his chest when he saw the man enter, giving a drowsy but pleased smile. “’Arry!” the boy exclaimed in a small voice.

And Louis thought in that moment that maybe Xavier really did understand who Harry was in his life, that he was playing the same role as Louis. It made his stomach do a little flip.

“Hi baby,” Harry smiled, leaning over and ruffling the boy’s curls, leaving a quick kiss there, and that got the toddler to give a small giggle, the quiet, reserved ones he gives when he’s clingy like this.

Harry looked up at Louis, raising an eyebrow while he kept rubbing small circles into Xavier’s back. Louis smiled softly at Harry and explained, “Clingy today,” before ducking his chin and looking down at the almost four-year-old. “Isn’t that right baby?” he cooed in a very fond voice.

Xavier buried his head into Louis’s jumper more, letting out a sleepy, “Yeah Daddy,” and fisting the material of Louis’s shirt even tighter. Louis looked back up at Harry who was nodding in understandment now.

Liam’s voice crackled through the bus speaker, announcing that they were going to pull out of the parking lot and for everyone to be seated before the speaker cut out again.

“Erm,” Harry fidgeted, looking around the bus and realizing that they were the only ones still standing. There weren’t any seats left besides the one Louis was about to slide into.

Louis smiled, pressing a kiss to Xavier’s forehead and bouncing the boy in his arms a little before he looked up, “You got window.”

Harry’s lips tugged upward just that much, and he slipped past Louis into the last open seat, pressing himself up against the window and waiting for Louis to slide in too.

Louis did, holding Xavier against him firmly as he sat and placing Xavier’s legs on either side of his torso so the boy could sit comfortably, pressed up against his father’s chest.

The bus started to pull out of the parking lot, and Louis could vaguely hear the crunch of loose gravel under the wheels, the rising chatter from excited toddlers coming from behind him, and the steady breath of Xavier on his chest, Harry’s shoulders rising and falling in beat with his breathing too.

Louis could see Harry’s head turn to face him out of the corner of his eye, and he twisted his neck so that he was facing the man too. Louis gave Harry a confused expression when Harry didn’t move, just looked at him with a faint smile, and when Harry processed that Louis was looking at him now, he smiled more.

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

Oh.

Louis nodded dumbly, lips parted slightly and gawking at the man next to him.

Harry smiled some more, before leaning in, pressing a soft and lingering kiss to Louis’s lips. It was soft and heartfelt, not expectant and forceful, and Harry pulled back after, the rush of it all sending tingles down Louis’s fingers and up his spine.

Louis smiled then, looking down to hide the blush that he could feel heating up on his face. Harry was just so _soft_ with him, gentle, and it made Louis’s stomach do flips.

Louis leaned his head on Harry’s shoulder, making sure Xavier was comfortable against his chest where the toddler was about to fall asleep already, and Louis closed his eyes too, ready to do the same on the drive to the destination.

He felt Harry press a soft kiss to the hair on his head before he drifted off to sleep.

-

“Lou.”

“Mnngh,” is Louis’s response to whoever is trying and failing to talk to him, the tired man turning around in his seat.

“ _Lou_.”

Louis’s eyes are closed tightly, and he mumbles out a, “Mmm, sleeping,” while he tries to shift on the leather that covers the bus bench.

“Louis, c’mon. Everybody’s leaving.”

It’s Harry’s voice, Louis finally registers, and he slips an eye open, barely, to take a look at his surroundings. It’s bright.

Harry’s standing there, holding a recently awoken, but excited, Xavier in his arms, squirming and ready to go. “Five more minutes,” Louis asks drearily, and then slips his eyes closed again.

“Louis, now. C’mon, Xavier’s ready. Isn’t that right bud?”

Louis doesn’t actually see his boy nod his head, but he assumes he did all the same. “Yeah, Daddy. We’re ready.”

“Daddy’s tired baby,” Louis suffices, letting his lips curl up a little at his boy’s voice with his eyes still shut.

“ _Lou_.” Fucking _fine_.

Louis sighs heavily, sitting up a little straighter and finally completely opening an eye, “Will you carry me then?” and it’s directed at Harry.

Harry snorts, the bastard.

“Get your arse up love,” is his response.

Louis huffs - even though there’s a soft smile threatening to take over his face, so content with his current positioning (and possibly a little giddy at the term of endearment) - and stretches, yawning as he does so, before pulling himself out of the seat and smiling at his boy, “D’you have a nice nap baby?”

“Yeah, Daddy,” Xavier replies happily, making grabby hands out for Louis and leaning over to show what he wants.

Louis chuckles, reaching his arms out and taking Xavier from Harry, holding him on his hip and kissing his head. “Looks like someone knows where his loyalty lies,” Louis teases, glancing up to Harry to see his reaction.

Harry just looks fond, the sap he is. “He’s got my hair love, that’s all I need.”

_Love_. That’s twice in three minutes. Louis quite likes it, he’ll be the first to admit.

They climb off the bus, all the kids already in rows, lined up outside and Liam at the head of the pack, holding a clipboard and checking something off on it.

“Took you long enough,” Zayn says when he comes up, tickling Xavier’s stomach and mock glaring at Louis.

“Yeah I know. Harry wouldn’t wake up. Even offered to carry him and everything, but the oaf wouldn’t move,” Louis quips, tilting his head with mock disapproval towards Harry as he speaks, and setting Xavier on the ground when he starts squirming in his arms, holding his hand instead.

Harry and Zayn are giving him unimpressed looks. “Pretty sure you got Haz’s name messed with yours mate.”

Louis waves a dismissive hand, “Semantics.”

Zayn snorts before Liam’s voice comes from the front of the group, and everybody turns to face him. Well the chaperones do; the children are kind of just spinning in circles.

“Okay,” Liam starts, “We’re gonna split up. Mr. Niall’s class is going to go with Mr. Louis, Mr. Niall, and Mr. Zayn, and Ms. Rachel’s class is going with Ms. Rachel, Tammy, and Grace. Niall’s group is going to the corn maze, and Rachel’s will go to the patch first.”

When Liam concludes his short monologue of instructions, all the chaperones and parents turn to their groups, having them hook hands to walk.

Harry turns to Louis, “Guess I’m with you lot then.”

Louis smirks, “Not so fast there, H. Liam didn’t even say your name, might just have to sit on the bus for the day.”

Harry is completely unbothered, smirking actually, and he leans over so his minty breath fans over Louis’s ear in small puffs. “Actually love, pretty sure ‘m in charge. Principal and all.”

And really, Louis knows what Harry actually said wasn’t anything special, but his dick takes it differently, the tone of Harry’s voice giving away exactly what he meant it to mean. Louis shivers as Harry straightens back up, and the man lets go of his smirk to trade it for an innocent smile, pretending as if he has no idea what he just did to Louis.

Harry reaches his hand down, grabbing Xavier’s own. “C’mon bud, let’s go see what Bear’s doing,” is what he says next, and he’s taking a happy Xavier with him, leaving Louis frozen behind them. He’ll deny it if asked.

-

Louis meets back up with Harry and Xavier half an hour later, having taken his own group through the maze while Harry took Xavier with Liam and Bear’s group.

He had gotten stuck at one point, and Niall had to come get Louis and his group of five kids out before _one_ of them had a panic attack.

Louis’s not going to admit if it was him or not.

When Louis and his group of four-year-olds emerged from the corn, all the other chaperones were already waiting for him, and Harry was at the front, holding Xavier and talking to him. Xavier’s giggling, burrowing his head into Harry’s shoulder and squirming when Harry tickled his side.

Louis walked up to them, smiling fondly, and Xavier spots him first. “Hi Daddy!”

“Hi baby,” Louis smiles, rubbing his boy’s back where he is in Harry’s arms, “Did you have fun in the maze?”

“Yeah!” the boy exclaims, throwing his hands in the air and missing hitting Harry in the face by half an inch, “We were the first ones out!”

Louis chuckles, “Good job Bub. Beat me, didn’t you?”

“I think everyone beat you Lou,” Harry chimes in, deadpan and with a smirk fighting to show.

Louis glares at him.

Harry lets out an amused laugh and rocks Xavier on his hip, “Pretty sure they’re taking your group and adding them to Liam’s. Decided you probably should be chaperoned too,” Harry muses, smiling when Louis keeps glaring at him.

Louis huffs, waving a hand, unbothered, “Just means I get to have fun and not watch kiddos like the rest of you.”

“Sure, Lou,” Harry laughs, shaking his head fondly and letting his lips tug up, despite himself.

They stood there for a couple more minutes playing with Xavier, while Liam and Niall situated everyone, getting ready for the two groups to switch places, and then they were walking, making their way towards the hayride that took them to the pumpkin patch.

Louis isn’t sure who thought it was a good idea to put rowdy toddlers in the back of a truck without seatbelts on and low sides, but he sure is cursing whoever it is in his mind while he tries to stop them from climbing around every second and finalizing their escape plan of how to safely jump off the moving vehicle.

The ride to the patch is short, maybe ten minutes, given that it’s connected to the orchard. Louis’s group - which is now Liam’s group plus an extra chaperone because _apparently_ , Louis isn’t responsible enough of a leader when you stick him in a corn maze that’s twice the height of him, with five toddlers… who knew? - is the first to climb off, Bear and Xavier’s hands in either of his while he helps them off the back of the truck and down onto the grass.

Once all the kids are off, Liam lets them disperse, giving each kid thirty minutes to find a pumpkin to take home. 

“Okay guys, why don’t you go look at the pumpkins and see who can get the biggest one yeah?” Louis says, squatting down to be eye level with the two toddlers in front of him.

The two of them nod excitedly, Louis getting a “Yeah Daddy,” and “’Kay Uncle Lou,” in return before they're off, following after the rest of their classmates.

He feels hands on his waist as he watches them bounce away, momentarily tensing before his body relaxes into the touch. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Louis sighs back, letting himself melt into the touch and lean back into Harry’s chest.

Harry chuckles, “Tired huh?”

“Mmm,” Louis nods, eyes closed as he lets Harry hold him, wrap his arms around the slightly older man’s waist and keep them flush together.

Harry hums in response, and Louis opens his eyes, letting his head rest in between Harry’s collar bones while he looks at the children running around and picking up tiny pumpkins, the blowing wind a nice coolant to the heat Harry’s body is providing behind him.

Louis can see Liam, Niall, and Zayn giving him intrigued looks from where they are helping the students where Louis probably should be too, but he chooses to ignore them, liking the way Harry feels against him too much to be bothered. “This is nice,” Louis hums, going lax in Harry’s arms and leaning back.

Louis twists his head around as much as he can when Harry hums again, not responding with anything else. He’s already looking at Louis, a serene expressing captivating his features, and Louis raises an eyebrow, “What?”  
  
Harry just shakes his head a little, lips tugging upward and holding Louis tighter.

Louis smiles.

He shifts around completely in Harry’s arms, still keeping their bodies flush and chests pressed together, enough that he can feel the heartbeat of the other man, and he looks up to him questionably now that he’s facing him. “Hmm?”

Harry’s quiet for a moment, just studying Louis’s face: the tiny freckles in random places, the blue of his eyes that matches nothing Harry has ever seen before (Louis Blue, Harry thinks it should be called; he’d put it on everything), the way his cheekbones are high on his cheeks, his jawline sharp in contrast, the fading worry lines that line grace his forehead. He’s beautiful.

Louis lets himself be kissed softly.

Harry’s lips are just nudging his, soft and cold against his own, but they feel so _warm_ , so inviting and comforting. They just glide across his mouth, without a real purpose except to feel Louis, and Louis is reveling in the touch, the feeling of being wanted in any way, simple or extreme.

Harry is the one to push it further, not too much - no tongue, obviously, because there are children and families around just some thirty yards away - but enough. His mouth presses open kisses to the other man’s, plump lips encompassing Louis’s thinner ones, and his warm, minty breath mixing in.

Louis’s hand are fisting the jacket Harry is wearing, and he can feel the large hands on the small of his back as they start to venture down, just when he feels something tugging at his jeans, a wondering voice speaking up.

“Why are you and ‘Arry kissing Daddy?”

Louis and Harry both pull back immediately, their lips smacking as they disconnect, and Louis wipes his lips as he looks down at his boy, eyes wide. He swears the toddler was just across the field with Liam and Bear.

“W-what baby?” He squats down.

Xavier’s eyebrows furrow, and its endearing, the way he looks like he’s pouting when he's trying so hard to figure something out, “Why are you kissing ‘Arry, Daddy?”

Louis glances up to Harry, unsure of how to answer, and just to his luck, Harry looks just as uncertain as him, shrugging when he sees Louis looking at him.

Louis turns back to Xavier. “Um, Zee, you know how I told you, you have another daddy? And that daddy is Harry?” is how Louis chooses to explain it.

Xavier nods slowly.

“Well - sometimes baby, daddies like to kiss each other. Because they care about each other, like how I care about you baby, just. Different. Do you understand love?”

Xavier nods a little, expression turning into an accepting one, and Louis smiles gratefully.

Xavier’s a smart kid is the thing, and Louis knows he should’ve thought about this sooner, should’ve thought about what exactly he and Harry were doing, whatever it is. Because Xavier’s a smart kid, and he _is_ going to catch on soon enough, start to expect things from both of them, things they don’t know how to address yet either.

In typical Louis fashion though, he decides he's going to take the easy route, try not to think too hard about what exactly Harry stealing kisses whenever they’re together and Louis agreeing to chaperone a field trip when he hears Harry is going, means. And anyway, the orange thing in Xavier’s hand that he’s holding onto with everything he’s got seems pretty interesting.

“What do you got there, love? Did you get a pumpkin?”

Xavier beams, having already forgotten the conversation from thirty seconds ago, “Yeah Daddy!”

And just like that, the topic is gone. Louis’s grateful.

**_xiii._ **

Louis doesn’t actually know what happened during Harry and Xavier’s last visit, but he assumes it went well, given that Xavier had come home with an award-winning smile and was extra cuddly that night. And when Louis had asked Xavier how it went when Xavier was being tucked in to bed, Xavier had responded with a content, happy (sleepy) sigh of, “Love ‘Arry.”

And Louis’s not sure if Xavier understands the weight off what he said that night, but it still made Louis unbelievably happy. And he made sure to tell Harry just how happy Xavier was after coming home from Harry’s, which made Harry grin, so much Louis could feel it on the other end of the line. He made sure to keep Xavier saying he loved Harry a secret though, because he figured that’s something Harry should hear in person for the first time. It would mean more.

That was another thing. Louis and Harry had been talking on the phone almost every night in the last couple weeks since the field trip, and that made Louis unbelievably happy too.

Tonight though, was Harry and Xavier’s fifth visit, and Louis was currently on the couch in the middle of a recording of an old Manchester United game while he was waiting for them to get back. It was getting close to eight when he heard soft voices in the hallway and eight seconds later there was shuffling outside the door and then a knock.

Louis grabbed the remote, pausing the game, before climbing off the couch in the joggers and hoodie he had changed into and walking to the door, opening it to a smiling Harry and an exhausted Xavier in his arms.

Louis smiled softly, leaning over and taking Xavier from Harry, the boy going willingly into his arms. “Tired?”

Harry nods, “Yeah, he crashed in the car on the way back, three sheets to the wind by now.”

Louis nods, craning his neck a little to place a kiss on the sleepy boy’s head. “Let’s go get you in bed, yeah love?”

Xavier hums a noncommittal sound into Louis’s jumper, and Louis rubs circles into his back, looking to Harry again. “You can come in. I’m just gonna put him to bed really quick. Shouldn’t take long, he’s already pretty much out. Can you fill up a sippy cup for him too?”

Harry nods, smiling softly and looking sleepy himself. Louis smiles back and then turns around, walking back down the hallway and to the bathroom while murmuring softly to Xavier.

When he’s brushed the boy’s teeth and changed him into a pair of cotton firetruck pajamas, already tucked into bed under his covers, Louis walks back out of the room and down the hallway to the kitchen.

He stops in the doorway when he sees Harry grabbing out Xavier’s red sippy cup out of the cupboard, and it’s so fucking _domestic_ , Louis realizes. Harry is standing there, getting a cup of milk ready for Xavier to go to bed, and if anyone who didn’t know Louis and Xavier were to come in now, they wouldn’t believe that Harry didn’t live at the flat with them, not with the way he’s grabbing everything like he already knows where it is, like he does it every night.

And the thought scares Louis, a lot actually, that it just seems so _normal_. He wants to fight it, not let his mind get accustomed to seeing a sleepy Harry roaming the kitchen and getting a cup of milk ready for their son, but he doesn’t, he knows he shouldn't. He told Harry that he needed it slow, not nonexistent. So Louis doesn’t let himself freak out, kick Harry out right then and there.

Harry turns around once he has the lid screwed on the cup, and when he sees Louis there already, he jumps a little, before he realizes it is not in fact someone there to kill him, just Louis, and his lips tug upward a little. Louis smiles back.

“Thanks, H.”

Harry nods, padding over to Louis on the tile floor and handing the cup to him, Harry’s breath catching just a little at the way their fingers brush. “C’mon then, he’s gonna be asleep by the time we get in there.”

Harry just nods, watching as Louis turns around and pads back down the hallway, turning right and entering a bedroom.

Louis forgets Harry hasn’t actually been in Xavier’s room before, but he realizes it when he sees the awe in his eyes as he takes in the room where his son sleeps. Louis smiles a little to himself, partly because Harry just fits so well in the room and partly because Harry looks so happy to be there, before walking over to the bed where the toddler is on his side, covers pulled up to his chin and watching with tired but wide eyes at Louis and Harry enter.

“Here you go love,” Louis coos as he hands the sippy cup to the boy, the three-year-old grabbing it happily in both hands and immediately bringing it to his lips, sucking on the nipple of the bottle.

Louis smiles as Harry comes closer, bending over the bed and pressing his lips to Xavier’s forehead, the boy’s eyes fluttering shut when Harry kisses him and then open again. “Night baby.”

Louis walks up next, repeating Harry’s action and pulling the covers up higher on the boy, “Night love.”

Xavier smiles tiredly, his eyes fighting to stay open while he sucks down the last of the milk from the bottle before finally giving in and letting them close, losing his grip on his cup.

Louis carefully reaches over, grabbing the almost empty bottle from the boy’s lax grip and setting it on the night table, before he and Harry are shuffling out of the room and Louis’s closing the door behind him, clicking off the light.

They pad down the hallway in their socks, walking shoulder to shoulder in a silence while both of them waits for the other to break it. It’s Louis that speaks up first when they get to where the living room and kitchen meet. “Wanna stay for the game?”

Harry turns to him, obviously surprised, and Louis can see how tired he is, thinks he might decline just to get to bed as soon as possible. But what he answers with is, “Yeah?”

Louis nods, smiling softly at Harry, and walking past him to the couch, “Yeah.”

-

Louis doesn’t really know how, but by the second time Man U scored, right before halftime, Louis had found himself settled in between Harry’s legs, back flush to chest as Harry ran his hands through Louis’s fringe absentmindedly from where he sat behind him up against the arm rest, thighs splayed on either side of Louis. Louis’s mind was racing, not focused on the game anymore, but on what he knew he was supposed to ask Harry tonight.

He didn’t know why it made him so nervous. Most of him already knew the answer, but the other part of him - that one percent that can't help but to doubt the man sprawled behind him - that part was apprehensive.

So Louis takes the indifferent approach, pretends he doesn’t care about Harry’s answer as much as he really does. He builds up the courage while Harry’s hand is running over his scalp, scratching softly just the way Louis likes it. He coughs. “So.”

Harry just hums in acknowledgement, his focus still on the screen while the Man U forward runs towards Brighton’s goalie with the ball, paces ahead of all the other defense.

“Um, Xavier--” Harry’s head turns at the name, and he hums again, this time looking at Louis while his hands card through his hair. Louis continues, “He’s um, his birthday I mean, is December 9th, so in a couple days, and the guys and I are throwing a birthday party for him, and we erm, need a head count, so I’m supposed to ask if you’re uh - free?”

That wasn’t nearly as indifferent as Louis was trying to sound.

Either way, Harry seems to understand that Louis needs reassurance, to know that Harry wants to be there for all the milestones in Xavier’s life, so he gives it. “Of course, Lou. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He really, really wouldn’t, and Louis knows it, but hearing the sincerity in Harry’s tone when he answers is enough to calm that one percent. Louis smiles despite himself, giving away how truly happy he is at Harry’s answer, and as if that weren’t enough, he preens under Harry’s touch a little, giving Harry better access to his head of hair and letting their body heat warm the other’s more.

They go back to watching the game, the both of them ignoring that fact that they are cuddled together right then or the fact that it feels so nice and _normal_ as the game gets further into the second half.

It’s when the clock ticks down to eight minutes left in the game, that Harry stirs a little, running his hands through Louis’s fringe and speaking up when he sees the analog clock under the television reading close to nine. “I gotta go soon Lou.”

Louis instantly tightens his grip on Harry’s thighs at the thought, and he burrows into Harry’s chest more, warm and comfortable, ready to fall asleep. He murmurs out a soft, childish, “No, don’t,” and curls into Harry’s body.

Harry smirks a little, carding his long fingers through Louis’s hair another time. “Someone’s clingy,” he teases, and he really did mean it as a joke, because there was nothing he wanted more than to stay in this position with Louis, cuddle with him while their son sleeps in the other room, but Louis freezes.

The smaller man can feel his face heating up as he pulls away, mumbling out a small, embarrassed, “Sorry,” as he makes to scoot away and give Harry space.

Harry’s eyebrows furrow and he instantly reaches out for Louis’s arm, keeping him from getting far. “Hey. No, Lou. That’s not what I meant. I was joking, babe, I like this. Come back.” He pulls Louis back against him easily, and Louis goes hesitantly, but he goes, settling back in between Harry’s thighs. “I was just kidding love. I really do love this,” Harry murmurs, into Louis’s ear, reassuring and scratching at his scalp again.

Louis nods softly, body relaxing finally and cuddling into Harry a little more, nuzzling his head under his chin as they face the screen, and Louis feels safe like this, protected, even as vulnerable as it makes him. 

They sit for another couple minutes, Harry making sure to hold onto Louis extra tight, so he knows he really was joking. When the final whistle blows, signaling the end of the game, and the teams line up to high five, Harry sighs, resting his chin on Louis’s shoulder and patting Louis’s thigh softly with his hand. “I really do have to go now Lou.”

Lou huffs, grumbling a little and stays put for a moment, refusing. When the camera’s cut to an interview of Brighton’s captain for a recap on the game, he begrudgingly stands up off the couch, making sluggish movements in his exhaustion and Harry chuckles.

They walk around the couch to the door as Harry grabs his jacket and pulls it on, Louis opening the door for him to step out of and leaning on it. “Don’t forget about the party. It’ll be at three.” Louis reminds, resting his head on his hand where is grips the door tiredly.

Harry turns around once he has his coat on and he smiles softly at Louis, “I won’t forget Lou, I promise.”

Louis smiles tiredly in response, his eyelids taking a little longer to flutter back open when he tries.

Harry leans in then, presses a soft kiss to Louis’s forehead and pulls back like it’s the most ordinary thing, like it’s a something he always does without even having to think about it anymore, just a habit.

“Bye, love.”

Louis smiles in response from the doorway, and Harry sees it before he’s turning away, exiting out the open entrance and down the sidewalk and Louis watches, smiling dreamily at the retreating figure.

-

The party had been in full swing for about an hour and a half, Niall, Liam, Ally, Gigi, Zayn, Maya, and a few other classmates and their parents in attendance. There were little kids running everywhere around the flat and adults talking with fellow parents around the room, drinking out of soda cans.

The party was going exceptionally well, and Xavier was having a blast, a constant fit of giggles as he and Bear played around with two toy swords Liam had brought over, other kids joining in and chasing them around.

The flat was decorated nicely, mostly by Ally and Maya; colorful streamers and a Happy Birthday banner dangling from the ceiling, and balloons taking up the corner space of the flat, hitting up against the ceiling where the helium had made them rise. There were themed plates and cups strewn around the room and a pile of presents sitting on the tabletop.

They had just served cake a few minutes ago, and Liam and Niall were trying to organize presents to start opening them when Harry grabbed Louis’s arm, leading him into the kitchen where no one else was.

Before Louis could question him, Harry pulled out a small box from his jacket pocket, which only confused Louis more. “What’s that for?” Louis questions, trying to figure out what’s going on.

“It’s for you,” Harry murmurs, and he seems shy, Louis realizes.

Louis’s eyebrows crease even further. “What do you mean? My birthday isn’t for another two weeks.”

Harry nods, playing with the box in his hands to distract himself, “Yes. But you’re the one who brought Xavier into the world. You deserve something too.”

And Harry’s being so shy, almost bashful, and Louis loves it, lips tugging upward at Harry’s words. “H, you didn’t need to--”

“--I wanted to,” is Harry’s quick response, not letting Louis question him anymore than that.

Louis just smiles, because it’s such a Harry thing to do - to get a present for Louis on Xavier’s birthday - and takes the box from Harry when the man holds it out for him.

It’s a jewelry box, Louis realizes, the green velvety material covering the box and the hinge on one end of the case to let it open and close.

Louis pops the lid open, looking down at what fills the package, and Louis instantly beams.

It’s a locket, a gold one with a thin matching chain and shaped into a heart with the initials _LWT_ on the front. “It has a picture of you and Xavier in it. I had to ask Niall for it, but he gave it to me to put in,” Harry explains while Louis opens it, and sure enough, the very first picture of Louis holding Xavier in the hospital is framed in the metal, both of their faces bright in the ray of sun that was shining through the window when the picture was taken right after Louis gave birth.

It’s fucking perfect, and Louis loves it. His eyes burn a little and he looks up to Harry with all the fond in the world. “Thank you Haz,” he says once he knows he’s been quiet too long, just trying to keep himself from crying at his son’s fourth birthday party. He leans up to press his lips to Harry’s quickly, and then he pulls back again, “Just - thank you so much.”

Harry looks relieved and his expression brightens at Louis, “You like it?”

Louis knows he’s grinning, positively glowing when he looks at possibly the most thoughtful man in the world who stands front of him. “I love it,” he promises.

Harry beams and helps Louis put it around his neck when Louis asks, and Louis is grinning as his hands wrap around the locket, a gentle and constant reminder of the boy he brought into the world, and the man who helped him.

They walk back into the living room then, out of the kitchen and back into reality where everyone else is socializing and ready to open presents, and Louis doesn’t even try to hide how happy he is when Niall looks over to him and catches him running a thumb over the front of the golden locket, before he walks over to Xavier, putting his focus back on his boy and helping the now four-year-old - holy shit he’s _four_ \- open his first present.

Louis thinks he has everything he’s ever wanted right there in the room.

**_xiv._ **

Louis realizes, belatedly, that the staff meeting when he had only been focusing on Harry’s lips instead of the conversational topic at hand, had actually been about the parent teacher conferences that were held right before Christmas break, and that Harry had been being responsible in reminding them a month early.

Of course, Louis didn’t benefit from the reminder, and now here he was, scrambling to get a presentation ready for the thirty sets of parents that would be showing up later at the end of the day, prepared to learn about how their children were doing in their year two class, and Louis would have no idea what to say.

He was stressed, most definitely, but Louis was nothing if not resourceful, so he did what he did best:

He hightailed it into Zayn’s room during the lunch break and begged the man to show Louis what he had planned for the parents. Naturally.

“ _Please_ Zayn, you don’t _understand._ I was _busy_.” Louis whines, spinning around in Zayn’s chair that he had dramatically plopped in when he entered the classroom five minute earlier.

Zayn snorts, lining a stack of books back up on the shelf while sipping from the soda he got from the cafeteria. “Louis, you called me last week complaining about how bored you were after you didn’t have to plan Xavier’s party anymore. You wouldn’t shut up until I told you I would come over and take you to dinner while Xavier was with Harry. You had plenty of time mate.”

Louis pouts, poking at the stress ball Zayn keeps on his desk. “Yeah, but that’s _different_. I was just trying to annoy you.”

Zayn laughs, walking back over to his desk and forcing Louis out of his chair. “Harry reminded us a month ago. How did you not start planning then?”

Louis bites his bottom lips, looking away, the picture of guiltiness. “Well, I… my mind was - preoccupied…”

“With what?”

“Erm, Harry’s mouth?”

Zayn scoffs, although there’s a smirk threating to make its way onto his face, so Louis knows he's just trying to draw this out. “Explains a lot.” He’s shaking his head, very obviously amused, and Louis thinks he could at least try to do a better job of pretending like torturing Louis isn't his favorite thing. Louis needs new mates, really.

Louis’s just about ready to get on his knees and beg (okay so _maybe_ he’s upping the dramatics just a tad; it _probably_ wouldn’t be the end of the world, but) he doesn’t want to look incompetent to the parents, “Pleeease Zayn. I’ll buy you that hair gel you love if you help?”

Zayn raises an eyebrow, “The coconut one?”

Louis nods.

Zayn thinks for a second then sighs, handing over a copy of his teaching notes to Louis that were just sitting on his desk. “Fine. Here. But you better not lose it or you're on your own.”

Louis beams, grabbing the paper from the raven-haired man’s hands. “You’re a lad, mate. I love you.”

Zayn just shakes his head, waving a hand, “Yeah, yeah, better get back to class. Recess is almost over.”

Louis hollers one more “Love you Zaynie!” behind him before he leaves the room, walking back down the hall to his classroom before his students get back, sitting down in his desk chair and figuring out what to tell each parent about their kids based off Zayn’s notes.

-

Louis’s putting the last piece of paper on a desk as he finishes everything he has to get done before the parents arrive. There’s a note on the board that instructs each mother or father to find their child’s seat and write a note for them to read the next day (Zayn’s idea), before they sit down in their child’s chair and wait for the meeting to start.

Louis put a PowerPoint together at the last minute after the school day ended (Also Zayn’s idea), the parents not having to arrive until six. It covered the basic topics: what the students had been learning, what each day looked like, and what they’d be covering next semester when they came back from break in January. There were packets on each desk that had a summarization of each student’s grades and behavior for their parents to look over, and Louis planned on speaking with each one of them during the meeting to give them a little more insight on how their son or daughter had been doing while the other parents went over the packets or filled out notes.

It was just hitting five till six when the first few parents filtered in, quickly finding their child’s seat and beginning the task that was set on the board. Louis walked around, answering questions some parents had and making sure they were all getting situated okay, before walking back to his desk and answering emails at his computer while he waited for the rest of the group.

At ten past, the first group of parents had all arrived, sitting in their designated seats and writing or reading, and Louis stood up, walking to the front of the room, clapping his hands together and starting with, “Hi everybody, I’m Louis Tomlinson.”

-

It was a half past seven when Louis was leading the last set of parents out. It was a little girl from his class - Sarah’s - mother and father, who were the last to leave, asking Louis a million and one questions about their daughter and making sure she was behaving in class.

Louis assured them that yes, she was, and she was passing with flying classes. In fact, Sarah was his favorite student probably, she was always listening and helpful, and he made sure to tell them that second part decidedly but left out that Sarah is his favorite. He’s not sure if telling a pair of parents that their child is his favorite student is a good idea given that they were probably the type to blab to another set, and he’d probably get called into a meeting about ‘appropriate and inappropriate things to tell parents’, something he didn’t want to deal with, so he doesn’t.

When he finally gets them out the door, Louis’s exhausted, stressed from the last hour and a half of having to answer questions from parents that he thought had self-explanatory answers.

They took groups in three sets, so that parents with multiple children could still meet with all their kid’s teachers, which meant Louis’s meetings went longer to try an accommodate every separate group and give the same speech and set of instructions over and over.

Louis cleaned the room sluggishly, putting all the used pencils and papers away and making sure the notes were ready for the students the next morning. He was ready to get in his car and drive home, pick up Xavier who Ally was watching in the flat she and Niall shared right close to their own, and eat something; get them ready for bed, cuddle a little, and then _sleep_.

He was in the middle of closing out of the open tabs on his computer desktop when there was a knock at the door, footing steps padding into the tiled room.

Louis looked up, exhausted, ready to tell whichever parent came back that the meetings were already over when he registered the person that was standing there.

The man was dressed in a sleek black suit, the pants hugging his long legs and thick thighs nicely and the jacket accentuating the V of his back and his broad shoulders well. His hair was brushed through, pulled out of his face and combed back, only a strand falling out over his forehead, and Louis wondered if he had meetings that night too, because he knows Harry didn’t look that put together when he walked in that morning. 

He looked fucking sexy really, and Louis’s fatigue was making Harry look that much more enticing, his jawline sharp, contrasting the dark layer of clothing he was in. Louis could already feel his body reacting to just looking at the man, which he was sure was just pitiful of him, and he was also sure he looked flustered as he just stared.

Louis closed his mouth when Harry smirked at Louis’s open gawking. The bastard knew he looked good. “Can I help you?” Louis chokes out, throat feeling only a little tight as he speaks from his desk.

Harry strides into the room, movements calculated and tactile, and he maintains eye contact with Louis as he walks through the doorframe, a hand in his pocket leisurely, the picture of nonchalant, but Louis knows better. “I’m here for the conference,” he answers unhelpfully once he gets a couple feet into the classroom, a couple feet closer to Louis.

“For who?” Louis raises and eyebrow.

Harry smiles, “Xavier.”

Louis’s jaw just opens in confusion this time, staring confusedly at the man in front of him. “I don’t even have Xavier in my class, you know that.”

Harry is feigning innocence when he responds, and Louis doesn’t know what game he's playing, but he has a bad idea at where it’s leading, especially with Harry standing there indifferently and posture holding so much confidence. Louis knows he's planning _something_.

“No?” Harry takes another step closer and then he’s smirking again, “Well I couldn’t make it to Niall’s room tonight, had meetings. But you could probably summarize it for me, right Lou? Stay a little longer at work to help out your boss? I’d go to Niall, but he’s already gone by now. Don’t want to bother him. Figured you’d be just as helpful yeah?” He looks smug.

Louis stands up from his chair, walking around the desk and resting his bum on the edge of the wood. He crosses his arms, trying for indifferent but failing miserably, and looks at Harry, blanches, “You’re serious?”

Harry smiles, the picture of faux innocence again, and flutters his eyelids a little .“Quite, _Mr. Tomlinson_.”

And _Fucking hell_. Louis is so affected just being in the same room as Harry right now, and Harry isn’t even _doing_ anything. He’s just standing there, asking how their son is doing in school. It shouldn’t make Louis so flustered; Louis knows that. Not Harry dressed only a little nicer than usual, confident in himself. But fuck, Louis likes this.

Louis clears his throat, at a loss for what to say, and Harry walks closer. “Hmm?” he prompts.

Louis just stares, and he thinks Harry might be able to hear his heartbeat now that there’s only a mere couple feet between them. “Erm,” everything Louis’s wearing feels hot, “He uh - Niall says he’s doing well. Yeah.”

Harry hums, nodding slightly as he takes the information in consideration. “And…?”

Louis coughs, pulling at his collar a little, “Um. He’s top of his class right now. Not that it, erm, matters much, since he’s in preschool, but uh - Niall’s proud of him?”

Harry raises an eyebrow, “Are you asking me?”

Louis shakes his head vehemently, “Uhm, no, no. I just… No.”

Harry’s only two feet away now, takes small, slow strides as he inches closer to Louis. “No?”

Louis shakes his head, dropping it so he doesn’t have to maintain eye contact with Harry; not with the way the man is looking at him. “No.”

“No, who?”

Louis looks back up. Harry is just raising an eyebrow, giving him an expectant look. Louis clears his throat, “No, erm… Harry?”

Harry doesn’t move, doesn’t even shake his head. Louis thinks, his eyebrows furrowing and then. Oh. _Oh_.

“M-Mr. Styles?”

Harry looks smug, and Louis knows he’s hit the nail on the head. Well shit, they’re actually doing this. “And how did your conferences go, Mr. Tomlinson?”

Louis face is bright red by now, he knows, and he knows what they might possibly, sort of probably may be doing probably isn’t best done at school after hours when there could still be a couple people left in the building. Louis thanks the Lord above that the only people who could possibly still be here are the last of the teachers picking their kids up from the service that each instructor was offered for free, instead of paying a babysitter while they sit through meetings. An aftercare that’s on the other side of the building which means nobody’s around, thank fuck.

“I asked you a question.”

And Christ, Louis recognizes that tone, the one that he’s heard so many times, the one that gets Louis to react faster than anything else. It’s deep, and slow, and just _dominant_ , commands attention. Louis kind of wants to whimper, or cry - or let Harry kiss him until he’s doing both - his brain can't make up its mind right now, and Louis’s too disconcerted to care.

“Good, they went well, Mr. Styles.” They haven’t done this in a while, Louis thinks. It’s weird - the situation they’re in - but he feels tingly… and is this really getting him _off_? What the fuck is wrong with him. A lot, his brain answers unhelpfully.

There’s a gleam in Harry’s eyes, and Louis thinks maybe he didn't mean to take it this far, but there’s also recognition, like he understands how Louis needs to be taken care of right now, that it might be too late to turn back.

Harry steels his expression, looking away from Louis and nodding. He has a neutral expression painted on his face, like he’s uninterested in what Louis is saying, and that churns something in Louis. He wants to be acknowledged, wants to be responded to. He thinks he might do a lot for Harry to react to him right now, give him attention.

Harry takes a step closer, and now they're right in front of each other, Louis leaning on the desk still - and thank fuck, because his knees probably would’ve given out anyway - and Harry towering above him.

“Were you prepared for them?”

And that’s a weird thing for Harry to ask, Louis thinks. Why does it matter? But he knows it needs an answer anyway; Harry wants him to talk. “Yeah,” Louis breathes, adding on a, “Mr. Styles,” when Harry’s eyes darken.

Harry tuts, shaking his head disapprovingly and this time, Louis thinks he might have really whimpered, “Don’t lie to me, Louis.” Okay, yeah, Louis whimpers. Harry used his actual name, which means he’s disappointed, or really fucking desperate. Harry looks more than put together though elegant even, so Louis takes an educated guess it’s the former.

“ ‘M not. I did well.”

Harry gives Louis an incredulous look, “Yeah? Because someone told me you had to ask Mr. Malik for his notes. Is that wrong?”

Louis’s immediately irritated, not because he doesn’t like where this is going - he does, if the growing bulge in his slacks are anything to go by, even though he probably shouldn't be getting off on this - but because Louis knows Harry pointedly used ‘ _Mr. Malik’_ to bring blatant attention to the fact that he hadn’t used it on Louis, to show he’s in charge, and he _knows_.

Louis looks away, down at his hands and not answering. He knows it’s gonna make Harry mad that he’s not cooperating, but Louis thinks maybe that’s what he wants. “ _Louis_.”

“No,” Louis mumbles, his head still ducked, and it’s so quiet that if Harry wasn’t listening so hard, he definitely would’ve missed it.

Harry doesn’t respond to that, doesn’t even tut or hum, but he shuffles closer, his hands entrapping Louis on the desk where he sets them on either side of his thighs. Louis can smell Harry’s cologne from where his head is ducked by Harry’s neck - a Cashmere Vanilla-Pine type of a scent, Louis thinks - and it’s intoxicating, calming.

Louis lifts his head a little, glancing into the green of Harry’s irises where they’ve dilated a bit, the only indicator that Harry is affected too. Harry smirks some, and then he leans in. Louis thinks he might kiss him, he really wants Harry to kiss him, but Harry ducks his head to the left at the last moment, mouth hovering right next to Louis’s ear and blowing hot air onto his earlobe. “You’re hot as a teacher, Mr. Tomlinson.”

His voice is deep, scratchy almost, and it does something to Louis, makes him shiver a little; he’s panting.

Louis pulls himself together, straightening out a little bit and trying his best to collect his thoughts. His voice is shaky with arousal when he speaks, “T-this is - harassment. F-from a superior.”

Is Louis being difficult? Yes. Is it blatantly obvious how much he wants Harry? Yes. (He’s sure Harry’s noticed the hard line of his cock on his left leg under his tight jeans by now). But he _wants_ to be trouble, wants to act up and watch Harry react to it.

Harry chuckles deeply in his ear, pulling pack and he looks _so_ _smug_. He’s composed though, as he raises his right hand gingerly, running a finger down Louis’s bare arm - what isn’t covered by his tee - and goosebumps appear in its wake.

“If I remember correctly, you said the fact that I’m your boss doesn’t apply to this situation, isn’t that right love? Believe your exact words were, ‘That means fuck all Harry’ yeah? Think you threatened to smack me too.”

He puts a finger under Louis’s jaw and tilts his chin up. Louis’s eyes looked glazed over almost, and he just looks so gone already. Harry hasn’t even touched him until now, but Louis’s still so ruined, gone for it. “Want me to kiss you baby?”

Louis nods, a couple needy jerks of his head as he stares into the man towering over him, every inch of his body feels like it’s on fire. “ _Please_.”

He’s so desperate, just wants Harry, but by the wild look in Harry’s eyes, he knows the man isn’t done toying with him yet, and he’s just playing right into his hand. The thought makes Louis whimper.

A smirk tugs onto Harry’s lips, and he looks so _proud_ that he can still drive Louis absolutely mad, that in under thirty minutes, Louis is sitting pliantly on a desk for him, panting, desperate for anything Harry will give him. Harry’s blood is pumping, and the adrenaline that’s coursing through his veins is a feeling he didn’t know he missed so much. “Don’t know if you deserve it Lou. You haven’t been very good.”

Louis thinks he might cry. He went from barely keeping it together - but keeping it together, nonetheless - to hopelessly desperate and gone for it in just a matter of minutes with a few lingering, burning touches, and a couple carefully worded phrases. A part of him thinks it’s probably not safe for one person to have so much power over another, but Louis knows why Harry has it. He _lets_ him, lets himself feel vulnerable so that Harry can protect him and it’s just so _much_. 

Louis whimpers, keening into the touch of the pad of Harry’s pointer finger and letting his eyelids slip shut for just a moment, “Please. Been good. ‘M good.” He's begging, he knows it, but he knows how much Harry likes to feel needed, loves it, knowing he’s the only one that can get Louis like this.

Harry’s features soften, just for a moment and only long enough for Louis to register it, but it’s there. Shows how much he really is feeling, lets Louis see into him, almost. “Better behave then love.” Harry’s smug smirk is back, but the way he says it is soft. The words are charged with so much emotion, like they’re explaining something Harry knows he probably shouldn’t say, in a completely different way, a different sentence, but it still has the same effect.

Louis’s only response is a nod, and he sighs happily, frenziedly, as Harry leans in, his mint breath fanning over Louis’s lips. Harry pauses only for a second, hovering in front of Louis’s lips, before he presses into them, soft and wet, the glide of their lips as they mold together.

Louis moans into the kiss automatically, fisting into the blazer off Harry’s suit, and he holds on tight, pulling them closer together. Harry’s hands travel from his thighs to his hips, grabbing at Louis’s love handles and caressing him, and he presses his lips firmer to Louis. He sneaks a tongue in, gliding it across Louis’s bottom lip, and Louis opens his mouth without hesitation, letting Harry slip his tongue in and explore his mouth.

The warm heat of their mouths is comforting, the minty taste of Harry mixing in with Louis, and it’s just so perfect. Louis had needed so, so bad, and Harry gave him it, let him have it and is giving it to him so, so well.

Louis lets his grip on Harry release in favor of wrapping his hands around the man’s neck as Harry lifts his hands to Louis jaw, cupping his cheeks and holding him there. He pulls his tongue out and instead sucks Louis’s bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on the wet, sweet skin and rolling it in between his teeth.

He pulls pack just that much, Louis lip still trapped between his teeth and lets go, eliciting a whimper from Louis. Louis looks so wrecked when he pulls back, his skin is thirty different shades of red and his pupils are blown wide, mouth parted obscenely and fringe a disorganized mess on top of his head.

Harry did that to him, he thinks, and Harry is so proud of it, too. Louis isn’t even reacting, just staring at Harry with a glazed over expression and waiting for what he’ll do next, ready to take whatever Harry gives.

He leans back in, kissing Louis soft, a peck, and then firm, a desperate crashing of their lips as he holds Louis to him. Louis is squirming, just barely, and Harry knows what he needs. He slides his hands under Louis’s arse, lifting him up without breaking the attachment of their lips, and turning them around, Louis on top of his lap with his thighs spread as Harry rests back onto the corner of the desk.

Louis’s moans at the new position, the friction of his own weight pressing right into Harry’s is a relief, and Harry can feel how hard he is in his pants, almost feels bad. “Need help love?” he asks as he runs a soothing hand up and down Louis’s thigh.

And okay, this is not at all how Harry planned this to go. When he was walking down the hallway to Louis’s room, all he had thought about trying was flustering Louis, get him a little wound up and then go home. He hadn’t expected for it to escalate this much, for them to be sitting on Louis’s desk with their crotches aligned. But Harry also should have known better if he didn’t want this to happen, shouldn’t have worked Louis up so much to the point where he knew he couldn’t safely stop, not with the headspace he had gotten Louis into. Really, it’s his own fault, but he knows Louis is enjoying it and he is too (their dicks are very good indicators), that’s what’s important.

“ _Please_ ,” Louis whines, searching for anymore friction he can get on top of Harry’s strong thighs with his large hands kneading into his arse.

“Shh, it’s okay love. I’ve got you baby.”

Except Harry honestly doesn’t know what to do. He knows what Louis wants, what he needs - hell he needs it just as bad, he’s just better at restraining himself - but he also knows that they’re still in their place of employment, and yeah, everyone is long gone by now, but they can't treat it like a bedroom. He’s just going to have to carefully get Louis off, because he knows Louis can't last, and it might not even be safe for him to, and take care of himself at home.

Louis’s started grinding his hips down on Harry now, searching for any kind of release while Harry has his inner turmoil, and the expression on Louis’s face - one between absolute pleasure and frustration - is enough to drive Harry to get him off, make him feel so, so good.

Harry lets his hips drive up just once, enough to spur on Louis’s orgasm, and enough to relieve a little bit of the pressure in his own cock, but not too much, not letting him get too close to the edge before he can take care of Louis.

Louis asks for it again, a shaky breath as he speaks, and even though Harry knows it’s going to probably get him too close, Louis needs it. He places his hands on Louis’s love handles, holding him down firmly, and then he bucks up his hips again, the obscene bulge at the front of his trousers meeting with Louis’s and adding an immense amount of friction to their cocks.

Louis gasps, breath hitching on a drawn-out moan, and he collapses forward, his head resting on Harry’s shoulder as he goes pliant, lets Harry manhandle him and give him the pleasure he so desires.

Louis lets out a few ‘ _uh uh uh’s’_ as Harry keeps bucking up, keeps grinding Louis down on him with the firm placement of his hands on his waist.

He can see Louis’s getting closer by the way his nose is scrunching up and his moans are getting louder, uncontrollable. Harry knows he needs to slow himself down if he’s going to help Louis, so he gives one more buck of his hips to Louis before holding the smaller man still on his lap, Louis immediately straightening back out and raising his head, his eyebrows furrowed in delirious confusion. “What - ?”

Harry just shakes his head, leaning forward to press a chaste, passionate kiss to Louis’s lips, and then he pats the older man’s thigh with an, “Off love,” signaling him to get climb down. Louis does, albeit with a perplexed frown, but he climbs off nevertheless, standing in front of Harry and just looking so wrecked.

“ _Harry_ …” Louis speaks up, like he’s about to argue for his right to come if he has to, and Harry wouldn’t blame him. The bulge in the front of his pants is obscene, and it has to be so painful, the way he’s straining against them.

“I know love. I know. Hold on.”

Harry climbs off the desk too, standing between it and Louis, and places his body weight on it, giving him leverage to stand and balance Louis’s body weight like he's going to have to. “Spread your legs.”

Louis does automatically, hands resting on Harry for support so that he doesn’t fall over with the arousal that’s pumping through his little body. “Good boy,” Harry praises, and Louis fucking _whimpers_ , letting out little moans and his legs spread even further. Harry smirks.

“Aright Lou. C’mere.” He pulls Louis to him, Louis shuffling awkwardly as he keeps his thighs parted, and slips a thigh between the smaller man’s legs. He dips down, pressing a passionate kiss to Louis’s lips, one that’s filled with just so many emotions, and he pulls back with a pop, Louis desperately chasing after his lips for more.

Harry holds him still, hand traveling down to cup Louis’s arse and pulling them flush together, and Louis moans, letting himself be manhandled. He’s always liked that, but only ever from Harry. “Alright love. Grind against me yeah? You’re going to have to get yourself off, gonna have to work for it. And I’m gonna watch, let you use me to mess your pants?” He speaks slowly, in a low, deep _deep_ seductive voice.

Louis hips buck so hard against Harry’s at the words, and he groans loudly, the thought of Harry watching him pleasure himself, but not helping, is just so much. “That okay Lou? Gonna work for it like a good boy? Gonna use my thigh to get off?”

“Mhmnnngh,” Louis groans again, and his hips stutter, the hard outline of his cock poking into Harry’s thigh. He nods distractedly, a cut off moan leaving his lips when Harry grips his arse in his hands. “Well? What are you waiting for Lou?”

Louis shakes his head, his hands gripping onto Harry with everything he’s got, and grinding slowly against Harry, experimenting. “That’s it love. Use me. Get your tiny body off against my leg, just like that.”

The words are enough for Louis to squeeze his eyes shut, let his head tip back and grind fully into Harry. He pulls the curly headed man’s body closer and grips to it like a lifeline, bucking his hips into Harry’s trousers, the friction so much, and it feels so good.

Harry can't stop himself, Louis’s cock grinding against his own just feels so heavenly. He dips his head, resting it by Louis ear, and lets himself buck a little into Louis too, gripping his bum tighter in his hold. “Yeah. Hard Lou. Just like I pound into you like you like so much. Fuck baby, like you want it. _Yeah_.”

There’s a look of determination on Louis’s face as he keeps going, like he’s imaging everything Harry would do to him if they were at home in their bedroom, and fuck, did Louis just refer to his flat as Harry’s home?

“Good boy, Lou. Doing such a good job all by yourself baby. So proud of you,” Harry coos roughly, grinding into the smaller man another time, and Louis whimpers into his shoulder.

Harry knows Louis’s getting close when his hips stutter, slowing down and rutting into him like he’s trying to savor the moment. Harry understands, and his cock is so hard, straining against his trousers and just begging to be given relief like Louis’s, and Harry’s going to give it to him.

He lifts a hand from Louis’s arse, moving it to the back of his jeans and slipping his hand down the back, feeling for the warm heat of his hole. “Mm, just like that baby. Your cock feels so good against mine. Bet you love this, all dirty and getting yourself off on me. But you’d like it better if I was in you right? My cock pounding into your tight little hole while you try desperately to get off, yeah? Or even my fingers. They’d drive you mad, nothing compared to how I feel in you, but it’d be enough right? You’d take it like a little slut?”

He slips a single digit into Louis’s hole to drive his point home, past the ring of muscle, dry and stretching, and Louis screams out, bucking uncontrollably into Harry’s thigh and arse clenching around Harry’s finger. “Nggnh - _fuck_. Ah, _Harryyy_ \--” Louis bucks again into Harry, haphazardly, his hole clenching and relaxing around Harry’s thick digit, and then he’s coming, his expression tight as he hits his release, working himself through it by grinding onto Harry and throwing his head back.

The look on Louis’s face alone is enough to do it for him - the amount of pleasure he can see - and his cock is spurting in his trousers, the warmth of his come messing his boxers. He comes with a loud moan, rutting into Louis and getting himself through it as Louis stutters and slows down against him. “Mm, fuck _Louuu_.”

Their rhythm slows down as they work through their highs, and they’re both lax when they come down, the immense pressure gone, replaced with one of great pleasure. Louis lays against Harry’s chest, breathing deeply and panting while he collects himself. “Was so fucking nice,” Louis sighs against Harry’s shirt.

“Did so good baby,” Harry agrees, rubbing a hand through Louis’s hair. “Let’s go home now, love. Get Xavier. How’s that sound?”

Louis just nods, sleepily leaning off of Harry and standing on his own. “Yeah.”


	2. Part Two

**_xv._ **

Little Harbor Primary had started break a week and a half ago. Louis spent the time decorating the flat, putting up a Christmas tree in the corner of the living room and letting Xavier put the star on top when they finished wrapping the lights around and hanging the ornaments. He’d made sure to go gift shopping the second day of break - when Harry had Xavier - so that he didn’t have to deal with the mayhem that Christmas shopping brings from the people who wait to get their presents until the last minute.

Louis and Harry had been spending a good amount of time together since Xavier’s birthday and the week after; it was normal for Harry to be around now, whether it was when the curly headed man was playing with his son outside or on the living room carpet, or if they were cuddling on the couch after Xavier’s bedtime, watching a footie game or a rerun of _FRIENDS_.

And like the kissing or the night of the parent/teacher conferences, they weren’t talking about the cuddling, weren’t acknowledging it. Louis liked it like that, isn’t quite sure if he’s ready to figure out what it all means with Harry. Actually, scratch that, he knows he’s not.

So, they don’t. They go about their business without addressing everything else that has to do with each other. Like the way Harry kisses him every time they see each other; how instead of “thank you’s,” Harry has traded them for soft touches or chaste brushings of their lips; or the way they cuddle on the couch and how it feels so scarily close to home; or how there’s been a burning desire in Louis to feel Harry on him again, be _under_ him (Or over him. Louis doesn’t really mind; riding Harry has always been one of his favorite pastimes). But that’s beside the point.

So, they ignore it.

The sun is well past up in the sky when Louis wakes up on Thursday morning. He feels so well rested, calm and relaxed as he rolls around in the bed. He immediately has the urge to check his phone - because the sun is never this bright when he wakes up - and his eyes widen at the time: _9:52_. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t slept this late in years, since at least Xavier was born.

  
Xavier.

Louis shoots up in bed. There’s no way he could have possibly slept in this late without being woken up by Xavier, especially since the boy no longer sleeps in a crib and can get out of the bed by himself. And since the boy hasn’t woken Louis up, that either means something’s wrong, or he’s in the living room or kitchen by himself, which could also be bad.

Louis jumps out of the bed, still fuzzy and delirious from sleep and his head pounds a little from getting up too quickly, but he ignores it, pulling a pair of joggers and a tee on before walking out of the bedroom hastily.

He immediately walks down the hall, opposite of the kitchen-living room-foyer, to check Xavier’s room to see if the boy really is sick today and that’s why he hasn’t gotten up. Louis wouldn’t be surprised. With tomorrow being Christmas, it’s the perfect weather to get the flu, and neither Louis nor Xavier had have the pleasure of having it yet, thank goodness.

Louis makes the short walk it takes to get to Xavier’s bedroom, only to see the door already open and the light on, the bed made. Louis furrows his eyebrows, trying to process where Xavier could possibly be, before it hits him.

He can smell the bacon from the kitchen, something he must have missed with the fact he had just woken up combined with the frantic need to make sure Xavier was safe. There’s also the faint sound of pots being used and hushed whispers, like someone’s trying really hard to be quiet.

Louis has no idea what’s going on, just hopes that Xavier didn’t try to make breakfast by himself at four years old - not that he would know how, which worries Louis more, because if he did try, there’s going to be a big mess and the boy could’ve gotten himself hurt - and most importantly, hopes that Xavier is safe.

He walks quickly out of the room, the sound of voices and pots and pans, and the smell of food and smoke and fire getting louder; this has a very real possibility of being bad. There’s twenty different scenarios flying through Louis’s head as he finally turns the corner to the kitchen and. Oh.

Louis feels more relieved than anything, when he comes to a stop in the doorway between the hallway and the kitchen, and sees Xavier - _safe_ \- in the arms of,

“Harry?”

The man, who is at the stove with a spatula in his free hand, the other arm bouncing Xavier in his hold, turns around, grinning widely when he sees Louis. “Hey, Lou,” he greets, like it’s the most normal thing for him to be there at 10 AM, cooking food and holding Xavier.

Harry turns back to the stove, flipping the pancake that he was cooking like this isn’t weird - like he cooks breakfast at Louis’s all the time - and Xavier turns his head, a wild smile on his face when he sees Louis. “Daddy!”

“Hi, love,” Louis softens, smiling fondly at the boy, and then the toddler beams, happy to be acknowledged by his father, and turns back to focus on what Harry is doing with a look of focused determination.

Louis is still standing in the doorway when he asks, “How did you get in?”

Harry doesn’t turn around to answer, instead focusing on the food in front of him while he responds with, “Niall let me in.”

Louis hums. “ ‘M gonna have to talk to him about that,” he ponders playfully, trying to sound vexed, but the smile on his face that he knows is large enough to be heard in his voice definitely gives him away.

Harry seemed to know that, because he doesn’t dignify Louis’s comment with a response, just smiles down at the food he’s making as Xavier babbles on about toddler nonsense. Louis walks over closer from his position in the doorway, looking at all the food that’s cooking on the stove - pancakes, bacon, eggs, potatoes; the lot - and rests his head on Harry’s shoulder that’s holding the spatula, sighing contentedly.

“ ‘M not gonna be able to flip the pancakes if you’re on my arm Lou,” Harry teases, shaking his arm a little as he flips the last pancake onto the plate by the stove anyway, without any trouble.

“Thank you,” Louis sighs, nudging into Harry’s chest once the taller man sets the cooking utensil down.

Harry smiles, wrapping his now free arm around the man and pressing a kiss to his forehead, “You’re welcome. Happy birthday love.”

They stay in the embrace for a couple moments before Xavier is suddenly flailing his limbs around in Harry’s hold excitedly, giggling happily and yelling out a cheer of, “Happy birthday Daddy! …Pancakes?”

Harry chuckles and Louis leans back up off the man, looking at his boy now instead and pressing a kiss to his temple, “Thank you baby. Yeah we can eat now.”

-

They finish the ‘brunch’ at ten thirty, the only foods left on the table being two strips of bacon that Harry is very stubbornly trying to finish even though he is very obviously full and will probably puke if he succeeds.

“H, just let it go. You can eat it later. You’re gonna make yourself sick.”

Harry pouts, looking feverishly at the last piece of bacon in his hand and a little green. “No. I can do it.”

Louis shakes his head amusedly, bouncing Xavier on his lap where he’s finishing his sippy cup of milk, “Baby, no you can't. We won’t judge. Just please don’t puke all over my flat yeah?”

Harry’s eyes light up at the term of endearment, something Louis doesn’t do much but has found himself doing more often lately, and sighs, conceding and setting the meat back on his plate. “Fine,” he huffs out, and he just looks so fucking endearing.

“Good. Now. Help me put all this away.”

Harry does, and in a matter of ten minutes, everything is washed and in the dishwasher; the kitchen free of any left-out food, and the table wiped. When Louis’s putting the last dish in the dishwasher, Harry speaks up, telling Louis that he needs to get changed.

“And what would that be for?”

Harry smiles excitedly and his eyes shine. “It’s a surprise.”

Louis raises an eyebrow; as much as he loves how endearing Harry is being, his surprises can be hit or miss. “One that I can't wear joggers and a tee shirt for?”

Harry shrugs, “I mean you could, but you’ll be in public, which means people can see you.”

Louis fakes offense, hand over his heart, “Are you saying I don’t look good?”

Harry just shakes his head, bouncing Xavier who is in his arms, and sighing fondly at Louis, “You look great, Lou. Always. But I know you like to wear something other than your pajamas in public.”

Louis smiles, “You sap,” he starts, referring to the ‘always’ Harry probably thought he got away with sneaking in there, but concedes. “Fine, I’ll go get changed.”

Harry gives him a satisfied smile, setting Xavier down and letting him make his way around the flat when he gives Harry a sweet, “Down ‘Arry,”, watching Louis as he goes into his bedroom.

Louis slips into a pair of black jeans - as per usual - and pulls a lilac jumper over his head, making sure he’s not going to be too cold in the December weather outside. He grabs his wallet and keys off the nightstand, walking out to the living room where Harry is slipping sneakers onto Xavier’s feet. He stops when he sees them talking, hiding himself partially behind the door frame to listen.

Harry is strapping Xavier’s left shoe on when the toddler speaks up. “Where are we going ‘Arry?”

Harry smiles softly at the boy, leaning in so he can whisper, “It’s a surprise baby.”

When he leans back, Xavier is staring up at him with awe, giggling a little as Harry sets his left foot down and grabs his right. “But what ‘Arry? Tell meeee!”

Harry chuckles fondly, leaning forward to kiss the boy on the forehead and patting his right foot as he sets it down, before leaning down by his ear and whispering something, Xavier beaming in response. Harry looks over in Louis’s direction when he pulls back and catches Louis’s eye, smiling knowingly at him and Louis knows he’s been caught.

Louis flushes red, walking into the living room and bending down in front of Xavier while Harry pulls on his coat. “You ready to go baby?”

“Yeah Daddy!”  
  


-

Louis furrows his eyebrows when Harry pulls his black Range Rover into an empty parking lot save for the beat-up red Chevy parked two spaces down, turning off the ignition and looking over to Louis in the passenger seat. “Did you bring us to a vacant parking lot to kill us, or…?”

“Ha _ha_ , very funny,” Harry deadpans with a fond roll of his eyes, unbuckling his seatbelt and going to open his door.

Louis follows, walking around the car and opening the door to the back seat where Xavier is sat in the car seat that Harry had gotten a month and a half ago, unbuckling the boy and grabbing him out in his arms. “Hi baby,” Louis coos, bouncing the boy on his hip as he walks up to where Harry is grinning on the sidewalk by the entrance, reaching to open the door.

“You’re excited,” Louis teases as he walks through the entrance, raising his eyebrow at the man with curly hair that’s being blown into his face by the wind.

“You’ve got no idea Lou,” is Harry’s response, a smirk on his face.

Louis’s confused, but when he walks through the doors, he sees what Harry’s so excited about. He blanks, turning around and facing the man, “You brought me to a bowling alley?”

Harry grins more, “Sure did love.”

Louis turns back around, staring at the building in awe with Xavier smiling excitedly on his hip.

He didn’t really think Harry would remember, to be honest. It was a small detail that Louis told him years and years ago, but it meant the world to him, and apparently Harry knew that.

Bowling - no matter how tacky it is - has a special place in Louis’s heart. He was a theater kid growing up, and no matter how funny he was and how much everyone usually loved him in school, there were times when he just didn’t _fit_. He needed a place to escape to, and the beat-up bowling alley down the street from his childhood home in Donny was the perfect place to do it.

The woman who owned the place then - Barbara - had taken Louis under her wing immediately, let him come over anytime and gave him a job when he needed to start helping his mum out with the bills. She had eventually given a key to Louis once she’d trusted him enough, and Louis spent all his free time there.

It was a place for him to get away, feel safe and act however he wanted without anyone being around to judge him. It also served as a way to take his siblings minds off whatever was happening at home, give them a break from all the emotional stress they were under.

And it was the place he told his mother he was gay.

A bowling alley is as close to Louis’s heart as a football pitch is to David Beckham, or a family heirloom is to an old nan. It’s his home in a way, his safety net, and Harry knows that.

Louis doesn’t think he’s been in years, definitely not since his mother passed, and probably not even since Harry. There were just too many memories for him, but it made him beam being here now, with Harry and Xavier on his twenty-eighth birthday, knowing that Harry still remembered things like this about him.

“You brought me to a _bowling alley_ ,” Louis repeats in disbelief, turning around to the man standing behind him and grinning so hard his eyes disappear and the skin around them crinkle.

“Think I already answered that statement Lou.” And Harry looks so _happy_ , happy that Louis is happy, and that makes Louis even happier.

_I think I might be even more in love with you now_ , is what Louis half thinks but doesn’t say, instead trading it for a playful, competitive, “I’m going to _crush_ you.”

“We’ll see about that love.”

Harry gets their shoes as Louis carries Xavier down to one of the empty lanes, admiring the interior and furnishings the building has.

There’s a dark galaxy carpet that covers the floor, and the walls are painted black to give it a 90’s feel, the trim painted a bright lime green that contrasts, and neon and throw back signs hung on every wall.

The place is virtually empty - given that it’s Christmas eve and anybody who isn’t at home with family and friends, is out last-minute shopping - and the only other people that are occupying the space is an elderly lady wearing a shirt with the bowling alley name stitched in the top right corner, sitting at the counter that reminds Louis quite a lot of Barbara, coincidentally, and a lone man, bowling his heart out at the far end of the lanes, off in his own world with a reminiscent, wistful smile on his face.

Harry comes over, three pairs of bowling shoes in hand, and hands a pair to Louis to try on, before bending down and putting his own on, slipping Xavier’s onto his tiny feet next.

While Harry is getting Xavier situated, Louis walks over to the bowling ball racks and pulls out a green six pound one for Xavier, and a pink fourteen pound one for him and Harry to share. When he gets back to lane six, Harry is inputting the names into the machine as Xavier jumps around, using his lots of pent up energy as he waits.

He sets the balls down on the return rack, looking to where Harry is pressing the final enter key and looking back at Louis with mischief glistening in his eyes. “Let’s do this, Tomlinson.”

Harry goes first, and naturally, he’s awful. Although he’s not as lanky as he used to be, has filled out his body and has better control of his limbs, his skill is probably equal to that of Xavier’s, and the boy hasn’t ever been before.

He completely misses the pins the first time, and his second roll he manages to get five before the ball falls into the gutter. His pout is endearing as he walks back, Louis laughing wildly at Harry’s form and grabbing the six-pound ball to give Xavier who’s next.

Harry pretends to be unbothered by his utter failure when he walks back, instead leading Xavier over to the front of the lane and positioning him adjacent to it. Harry takes the ball from Louis, and Louis watches as Harry squats down, Xavier standing in between his thighs as he listens intently to Harry’s instructions. “Alright baby, you’re just gonna roll this down the lane ‘kay? Yeah just like that,” he validates as Xavier puts his small hands on the bowling ball that is set on the ground in front of him. “Now push it as hard as you can, Bub.”

Xavier does, shoving it down the lane as hard as his little body can muster, which isn't much, but he still manages to get it to roll as far as Harry’s, knocking over three pins and jumping excitedly when Harry reacts enthusiastically, turning around and jumping into his father’s arms and beaming. “I did it ‘Arry! Did it!”

“Good job Zee! That was great baby!”

Louis watches on from behind, watches how Xavier attaches himself to the man and smiles into his coat, fisting into the fabric as he grips Harry with everything his little toddler self has, burying his curls into Harry’s neck and grinning madly.

Louis picks up his own bowling ball once Xavier has taken his second attempt where he managed to hit over another two pins, and walks towards Harry and his boy, the toddler bouncing back down the step by the return rack to wait in his seat eagerly.

Harry is standing up from his squatting position when Louis walks by, holding the pink swirled ball in his hand and looking at Harry with all the determination, but excitement, in the world.

“Let me show you how it’s done,” Louis taunts, swaying his hips a little as he steps up to the lane and smirks at Harry, holding the bowling ball in his hands and winding up, releasing it when he throws his arm forward. The ball collides with the pins.

_Strike._

Louis realizes two things while they stand in the bowling alley for the next four hours, playing game after game because Harry _insists_ that he’s getting better after each one ends, and snacking on the cheese pizza they order halfway through from the cashier because Xavier got hungry.

One: Xavier definitely got his bowling skills from his other father, because as endearingly adorable as the boy is, he only manages to get no more than six pins knocked down at every turn. But it’s okay, Louis’s got time to teach him.

And two: Xavier has gotten really attached to Harry over the last month and a half, even though it hasn’t been long. Louis guesses his son is like him in that way, because Louis gets attached just as quickly, if not quicker, and he can see it in how Xavier clings to his father that he’s definitely at the same level.

Louis hadn’t noticed it before, at least not much. He knew Xavier was more than accustomed to Harry being around a lot, hanging out with him every weekend and seeing him at school almost every day, but he hadn’t realize how much Xavier _depended_ on the man, treated him pretty much like Louis, clinging to him and looking at him with all the awe in the world.

Louis thinks it’s a little scary how much he and his boy need Harry.

They finally finish up their last game at three, returning their shoes and putting their equipment away when Louis wins for the fifth time. Xavier is tired, Louis can see it, but his body has got to be thriving from all the sensory overload that’s going on in his brain from all the excitement around him, because he’s still running around madly, and Louis knows he’s going to crash in the car.

The woman working behind the counter at the shoe return gives them a kind smile when they walk up to return their shoes, and Louis thinks the gleam in her eye is what it might look like when a person is reminiscing on their past, living vicariously through another and reimagining all the memories they’ve already made.

It makes Louis happy, that she can see something in the three of them.

They exit the bowling alley with Xavier in Harry’s arms, eyelids getting sleepy like Louis assumed and the boy’s pretty much out cold on Harry’s shoulder. Harry straps him into his car seat before climbing in the driver’s seat as well and turning on the engine, warming up the car.

Right as Harry’s pulling out of the parking lot and Louis is looking out the window, he reaches a hand over and splays it over the top of Louis’s thigh. Louis jumps a little at the sudden touch, but he turns his head and looks at Harry, who’s looking at the road like nothing out of the ordinary is happening except the little curve to his lips gives him away, and Louis smiles, bright and crinkle eyed, radiating happiness.

Harry pulls the Range Rover into the parking space in front of Louis’s flat a little before four, and they climb out. Louis tries to hide his disappointment at Harry letting go of his thigh, but it doesn’t last long because Harry opens the rear door behind his own seat and unbuckles the sleeping Xavier, pulling him out and holding him against his body like it’s nothing and Louis gives the picture a lazy, content smile as they walk to the front door.

Louis grabs his keys out and unlocks it, ready to sit on the couch and relax while Xavier sleeps, figuring everything that Harry had planned today had already been done, and holds the door open for Harry to walk through.

“You can just put him in his room,” Louis tells the man, and Harry nods, eyelashes fluttering closed softly and opening back up.

Harry comes back a few minutes later when Louis is putting away the rest of the clean dishes from the dishwasher, closing the door to Xavier’s room softly, and walks towards Louis.

“So…” Harry starts as he gets closer.

“So… ?” Louis prompts, putting away the last plate in the cupboard and resting his back against the edge of the counter.

Harry is in front of him now, his arms on either side of Louis on the counter, and their chests are close enough to touch if they were to just lean in a few inches, “I have another thing for you, but you’re going to need to dress nice.”

“What for?” Louis prods, absentmindedly reaching his hand out and grabbing onto the fabric of Harry’s jacket, holding him close to him.

“That--” Harry reaches a finger up and presses it softly onto Louis’s chest, “--is a surprise.”

Louis blinks for a moment, “What about Xavier?”

“Niall and Ally are already picking him up and watching him for the night.”

Louis raises an eyebrow, “And what if I already have plans with the lads?”

Harry smirks, “You don’t. I made sure. Now stop making excuses and go change.”

Louis smiles - because Harry really did plan something else, just for the two of them, and the thought makes Louis a little giddy - before turning around, making his way towards his own bedroom and swaying his hips a little, “You’re good, Styles,” he sing-songs, disappearing around the corner.

When he comes back out half an hour later, he’s wearing a pair of black jeans and a white graphic tee, a blazer over it so that he looks dressed up, and a pair of vans on his feet. His fringe is swept to the side of his forehead, and it still looks perfect, without looking like he tried _too_ hard. Harry is in the living room, sitting on the couch on his phone and Louis has to do a double take when he sees him.

He’s wearing a suit, one Louis has no idea where he got it because he didn’t see him bring it in, and his hair is pulled back out of his face in a small bun that just barely works with the length of his hair, and his legs look fucking perfect in the trousers. Louis can see the collar of the white button down under his suit jacket, and he put on a pair of black dress shoes to replace the trainers he was wearing when Louis left the room.

Niall’s already in the room too, sitting on the love seat and playing something on his phone, and they both look up when he walks in, Harry immediately standing up like he’s waiting for his date for high school prom, his eyes widening as he takes Louis in.

Louis smirks, and his ego is definitely boosted by the way Harry is halfway to drooling in front of him. “See something you like love?”

Harry just nods dumbly.

Niall snorts as he stands up, looking to Harry. “You’re whipped mate.”

All Harry gives in response is a lovesick sigh of, “ _Yeah_ ,” eyes still trained on Louis.

Louis shakes his head amusedly, walking into the living room and up to Harry, “You look dapper H. Truly elegant.” There’s a hint of teasing in Louis’s voice, but Harry can still make out the sincerity behind it.

His eye soften, and he focuses on the blue irises of Louis’s own now rather than his outfit, giving a crooked smile, his dimple popping out ever so slightly. “Hi,” he breathes, leaning in to press his lips to Louis’s without another word.

“Hi,” Louis breathes back when they pull apart and rest their foreheads against each other, just looking at each other and taking the other in.

Niall coughs from the side of them when they just stand there for a moment, and they pull back slowly, turning to face the leprechaun.

“Happy birthday Lou,” the brunette grins, and Louis grins right back, pulling him into a hug as his thank you. “Now,” Niall starts when they pull back, “Get out of here ya tossers. Xavier needs some quality time with his favorite uncle.”

Louis snorts as he walks back to Harry’s side, the man grabbing his hand as he opens the door, “Let’s go.”

**_xvi._ **

Harry pulls the car into the parking spot forty-five minutes after they had left the flat, right next to a tall glass-tinted building that rises a good ten stories at least. They’re in the outskirts of the city, within an hour of the flat, and they climb out, Harry shyly taking Louis’s hand like he doesn’t know if it’s okay and smiling down at the ground when Louis grips his hand back firmly as reassurance.

They walk into the lobby of the building and out of the cold, the heat warming them up quickly. It’s decorated prettily, elegant Christmas lights strung from the ceiling and a large faux Christmas tree is set in the far corner of the floor, a lit-up star on top and yellow lights and ornaments gracing its branches.

Louis’s never been here before, which isn't surprising given that everything looks so expensive, but it surprises him that Harry even knows it exists, that he chose to bring him here of all places. He follows at the side of the man as he leads them to an elevator across the floor from the revolving doors they just walked into, pressing the correct button before the doors close.

The ride up is quiet; Louis wondering where they could possibly be going and what is on the twelfth floor, and Harry a bundle of nerves praying to _God_ that Louis likes this.

They step out when the elevator dings and the doors slide open, and Harry grabs Louis’s hand again, mainly for moral support now, so he doesn’t back out and give up. There’s a hostess waiting ten or so feet in front of the elevators, past the formal lobby of the floor, and behind her is what looks like the dining room section of a restaurant, a very elegant restaurant.

Harry brings Louis over to the woman - who’s nametag reads Jennifer - and she smiles kindly at them. “Reservation?”

“Styles,” Harry answers in his deep, slow drawl, and Louis’s insides flip, Harry using just his last name for _their_ reservation. It’s a minute detail, but it still does something to him.

“Right this way.”

The woman grabs two menus from under the podium that she’s standing behind and smiles politely as she leads them through the entrance, past several rows of tables, and to a small one in the corner of the room, right next to the window.

“A waiter will be right with you.”

Louis is in awe as he sits down, the hostess disappearing back to her station. Louis’s not quite sure if this is the type of restaurant to be busy or not on Christmas Eve - either because people are at home with their families, or because people are treating their significant others to a fancy meal before the holiday - but the floor is empty now, given that it’s only five-thirty, which formally, is a little early for a meal. 

Louis doesn’t mind though; in fact, he prefers it. The silence of the room gives it more intimacy, and the warm hue of the sun shining in through the windows give the room a softer atmosphere. The entirety of the wall’s that wrap around the open-concept dining room is made of floor-to-ceiling windows, giving a spectacular view of the city as it starts to light up, Christmas lights sitting beautifully atop and around every building.

There is an array of varying sizes of dark oak wood tables that fill the room, and each is decorated in an arrangement of candles, flowers, and silverware, placed neatly around each place setting.

“This is beautiful H,” Louis comments as they shift in their seats, getting comfortable and taking in the gorgeous twelfth floor view.

Harry visibly relaxes at Louis’s affirmation and his eyes twinkle a little in the warm red sun light, “Yeah? It’s not too much?”

Louis smiles, “It might be too much, but I absolutely love it. This place is wonderful, Haz.”

Harry beams at the confirmation, and he sits up a little straighter, making constant eye-contact with Louis, “Good; I know it’s a little early for dinner, but I figured it’d be quicker and quieter… and we have stuff to do after this.”

Louis raises an interested eyebrow, “We do?”

Harry nods, eyelashes fluttering shut softly and a lazy smile on his lips, “’Nother surprise.”

“You just got a million of those today, don’t you love?”

Harry’s grin grows at the term of endearment, if that’s possible, and he nods shyly, just taking in Louis’s appearance and smiling at the man.

They maintain soft eye contact for a couple silent moments, drinking in the other man sitting in front of them as the sun hits them at different angles, until a waitress approaches, holding two menus in hand and setting them in front of Harry and Louis, respectively.

The waitress introduces herself, glancing politely between both of them as she speaks, “Hello, my name is Elyse. I’ll be your waitress tonight. Can I get you started with a couple of drinks? We have our whole alcoholic menu available tonight.”

Harry smiles at her, “Two glasses of Pinot Noir, please?”

The woman nods, taking the drink menu back from both of them and walking away with a promise of having it right out.

Louis smiles at Harry for still knowing his favorite red - of course he does - , and picks up the menu, reading through the description of each food. His eyes bug out when he looks at one of the prices - forty pounds for one steak - and _holy shit_ , how the hell is Harry paying for this? Louis is fairly certain that he couldn’t afford this meal on his teacher salary alone - even though Little Harbor does pay reasonably well, especially for an educational job - but unless Harry is making a whole damn lot more than Louis as principal instead of a year two teacher, this is definitely going to put a sizeable dent in his bank account.

Louis feels really bad all of the sudden, because Harry didn’t _have_ to do any of this - could have just signed a card and bought him a new coat or something. But instead, he brought Louis to one of the more expensive restaurants in London, took him bowling already, and is taking him somewhere else after this, that will, most probably, also come at a cost.

Louis decides then that he’ll just get a salad. He’s not all that hungry anyway.

He sets the menu down and looks out over the view while he waits - Harry still skimming his own menu - and thinks about how the hell he’s supposed to repay Harry for all this.

The waitress comes back a few minutes later and sets the two glasses of red down in front of Louis and Harry, pulling out a note pad and a pen from her apron to take the two men’s orders. “Alright, what can I get started for you two?”

She looks to Harry first, and he looks down at his menu, eyes flicking to two different places like he’s still trying to decide, and then choosing a minute later, “I’ll get the Tomato and Basil spaghetti, please.”

Elyse nods, politely taking the menu from Harry and turning to Louis next, “And you, sir?”  
  


“Erm, I’ll just get a Caesar salad--”

“--Absolutely not Lou. He’ll take the nine-ounce filet mignon please. Medium,” Harry interrupts immediately, redirecting his statement to the waitress politely, before looking at Louis like he’s crazy.

“But _Harry_ \--” Louis tries.

“ _Louis_ ,” Harry warns, cutting him off with a no-nonsense look.

Louis sighs, closing his menu and conceding, handing it over to the waitress, “Fine,” he huffs, defeated.

Elyse chuckles when she takes the menu from Louis’s hand, obviously amused by Harry and Louis’s bickering that Louis is sure makes them look and sound like an old married couple.

“I’ll put it in immediately,” the woman says kindly, smiling fondly at the pair before walking away and back to the kitchen with the menus.

When the woman walks away Harry turns to Louis, raising an eyebrow, “What was that about Lou?”

Louis sighs, “I just - this place is really… expensive Haz. And you’ve already done a lot today. I just - I don’t want to, like, be a burden or something.”

Harry’s expression softens. “Louis I - the school pays well okay? It’s not a problem. At all. Just enjoy it yeah?”

Louis sighs, nodding shyly and playing with the bottom of his wine glass, moving the condensation around with his finger.

“Hey,” Harry starts softly, using his pointer finger to lift Louis’s chin up, “I mean it love. It’s your birthday, and you deserve this yeah? Let me do this for you, okay?”

“…’Kay,” Louis mumbles quietly - more than grateful for the man in front of him - looking into the green irises of Harry’s eyes, and he just looks so _sincere_ , like he means everything he’s telling Louis with his whole heart.

They talk casually after that, waiting for the food, and covering quick topics from school starting the week after New Year’s to the plans for Christmas tomorrow: go to Liam’s for dinner and celebrate with their group of friends and their significant others.

The waitress returns with their food roughly half an hour later, and by then the sun has set, the lights of the city fully glowing around the buildings and lighting up the pathways as people walk around the streets on their ways home. Louis’s first glass of wine is gone by the time he starts eating his steak, and he's not tipsy, but the alcohol is giving him a slight buzz, running through his veins and providing him with a nice warmth as they sit in the still-empty dining room.

The conversation during the meal is more serious. It includes topics from after Harry left, what they both did and how their lives had gone. The topic eventually leads to Louis’s mother - Jay - who passed from leukemia after Xavier was born, and it’s a really fucking hard conversation for Louis. His mother meant everything to him - still does - and it’s always going to leave a hole in him that she can't be there to watch Xavier grow up, but Harry’s thumb rubbing the back of Louis’s hand while he speaks makes it a little easier, and Louis knows Harry understands the exact weight that her death put on him, how important she was. He’s glad it’s Harry and that he just _knows_ , doesn’t have to explain it.

They sit in a more-than-comfortable silence after the serious topics of conversation dies off, and they eat their food, looking out the window occasionally and taking sips of their second glasses of red in between every few bites.

The atmosphere becomes lighthearted again once Harry sneaks a bite of Louis’s steak off his plate, and Louis gets his revenge by taking a bite of his spaghetti, a small price to pay, according to Harry.

The conversation carries on after that, jumping from topic to topic every time one of them is reminded of something else, and it’s just so nice, sitting their together and enjoying nothing but each other’s presences, like it’s all either of them really need (besides Xavier of course).

Elyse brings the bill over once they have both finished their meals, another glass and a half of Pinot, and the desert that Harry absolutely insisted that Louis try (it was a life or death matter according to the curly headed man across from him, that Louis taste the chocolate truffle cake with raspberry sauce drizzled over and a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream) and Harry snatches it before Louis can see the price, setting his card in the check-holder, and handing it back to the waitress with a smile.

They walk back to the elevator soon after Harry gets his card back and they thank Elyse for the wonderful service, Harry tipping her a good amount above the customary 20% for her kindness, and Louis is leaning on Harry as soon as the doors close.

Harry chuckles, lifting a hand and softly rubbing Louis’s back through the blazer while the smaller man’s head burrows into his chest, “Tipsy love?”

“Mm,” Louis hums, “Just a little,” he mumbles, breathing in the floral smell of whatever cologne Harry had put on. It smells nice.

“Fresh air should sober you up,” Harry comments, continuing to rub soothing circles into Louis’s back.

Louis begrudgingly straightens out when the elevator doors ding open to the lobby, and they walk out, Harry taking Louis’s hand to lead him and they walk through the revolving doors together, even if it’s a tight fit.

Harry takes them back to the car, opening the door for Louis and getting a sarcastic, slightly intoxicated, “Such a gentleman,” remark back from the man as he climbs in.

Harry chuckles, walking around to the other side of the Range Rover and climbing in the passenger seat, starting the engine and turning on the seat warmers to heat them up.

Harry pulls out of the parking space and onto the main road with a hand on Louis’s thigh, windows down to sober Louis up the rest of the way from the couple of flutes he had, the heat from the seats keeping them from getting too cold.

The ride is roughly twenty-one minutes to Richmond, give or take, and Louis can feel himself getting sleepy just from the slight rush of alcohol in his system and the comforting presence of Harry beside him, even though it’s only a couple minutes before seven.

Louis looks around as they drive, taking in his surrounds and processing that they’re in Richmond, but realizing he doesn’t actually know where they’re going. He turns to Harry - who is focused on the road as he absentmindedly rubs Louis’s thigh - and opens his mouth to speak. “Where are we going?”

Harry turns to him, smiling softly before refocusing on the road, “The Gardens.”

Louis’s eyes light up. “You’re taking me to see the lights?”

“Yeah love,” Harry murmurs out with a content sigh, still focused on the road.

Louis smiles happily and turns back to look out the window, an excitement thrumming in his body. He loves the Christmas light display that the Gardens host every year. It’s gorgeous, seeing the grounds lit up with colorful lights and walking around while you take in the displays. Louis’s always loved going when he had the time and going with Harry is going to be even lovelier than the few times he’s gone in the past couple years with one of the lads.

It only takes a few more minutes before Harry is entering the grounds, following after the mass array of cars and finding a parking lot to park the car. They’re out of the car after a few short minutes, getting a parking spot rather close to the main section of the park, and walking hand in hand up to the entrance.

Louis’s in awe as he looks around while Harry pays for the tickets. The sun has been set for a few hours now that it’s half seven, and the lights luminate everything around them. They look beautiful, brightening the faces of the families that are passing along and giving a Christmas-y environment to the place as a whole.

The grounds are busy, families of all shapes and sizes walking around to view the park before Christmas, and children are bouncing around their parents, seeming to be as in awe of the lights as Louis.

Harry chuckles when he sees Louis looking around like a five-year-old, gawking at all the displays. “You like it love?”

Louis nods vehemently, looking up and meeting Harry’s eyes. “It’s gorgeous H.”

Harry smiles fondly, leaning down to place a soft kiss to Louis’s forehead and squeezing his hand, pulling him along. “C’mon, let’s go walk the paths.”

The walk takes an hour and a half roughly, and Louis takes his sweet time looking at everything. The grounds are covered completely in different colors and types of lights, and the trees are decorated ornately, string lights wrapping around the branches and lighting them up so visitors can see the few leaves that are left on some of the more seasonal bushes and shrubberies. It looks magical, all lit up like this, and Louis doesn’t think he’d be able to believe it was real if he only ever got to experience it through a couple pictures.

They had separated from the group that had been walking along with them halfway through, leaving an intimate silence for the two to bask in while they walked along. At one point, when no one else was around, Louis mischievously grabbed Harry and pushed him down on one of the empty benches, straddling his lap and lazily snogging him until their lips were swollen and bitten, and they heard children’s voices rounding the path just behind where they were. Louis’s pretty sure one of the kids saw them before he jumped off Harry’s lap.

He’s not admitting anything though.

They held short conversations every couple of minutes, talking about random subjects that popped up into one of the pairs brains while they observed all the different decorations and illuminations. Louis loved it all, the serenity of the landscapes, the cool wind on his body while he walked side by side with Harry, the different styles of lights that lined each pathway. But his favorite by far, was the kaleidoscope laser show at the end, the multicolored rainbow lights hitting the Temperate House at the perfect angles and lighting it up magically, made it feel like a sight that would disappear if anyone stopped watching for even a second.

There were rainbow spotlights that beamed up into the sky, and the glass of the Victorian style building was luminated to tint each section a different color. The glow of all the lights lit up the water in front, casting a changing shade to its moving surface as people passed. Louis loved it, the beauty of it all, and he’s ninety percent sure he could watch it forever.

Of course, he has priorities - like Xavier. and his job. and his life in general - so he can't, to his very disappointment.

When they’re reaching the end of the path, Louis breaks the comfortable silence they’ve been in for the last fifteen minutes, give or take, grabbing Harry’s arm softly and pulling him off to the side of path at the exit.

He fists his hands into the blazer of Harry’s suit, keeping him close, and peering up into the man’s eyes. “Thank you. I loved tonight,” he whispers, a faint, appreciative smile tugging up his lips.

Harry sends the same smile back, leaning down to kiss the space between Louis’s brows before straightening back up, “Of course, Lou.”

It’s when they're driving back to Louis’s flat that night, that Louis looks over to Harry who’s in the driver seat, more focused on the road rather than Louis himself, and it hits him.

Louis knew Xavier was attached already, he knew he was halfway there himself, and that it scared him a whole fucking lot. But looking at Harry while he drives Louis back home after spending the whole day celebrating his birthday? It’s then that Louis realizes how important Harry is to him too, how accustomed he has become to having him around again like he used to all those years ago and spending time with him.

He realized how much he _wants_ Harry, and for the first time, it didn’t scare Louis so much.

**_xvii._ **

Harry had ended up sleeping in Louis’s bed the night before, cuddled up behind him with his long arms splayed around Louis and holding the smaller body to his own under the covers before they let sleep take over. They were both utterly exhausted when they got back from the light show - even though it was only around ten - and Harry was more than happy to oblige when Louis offered for him to stay over. The only thing they managed was a lazy make out session before they were out cold, dead to the world and snoring softly into their pillows.

Harry wakes up to a knee in his stomach and a little body pressing down on top of him the next morning.

“Hi ‘Arry!” is the small, excited voice he wakes up to, and when he opens his eyes, he’s met with the wide-eyed look of Xavier on top of him. “It’s Christmas ‘Arry!”

Harry smiles groggily at his boy, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him in for a cuddle, pressing a kiss to his hairline, “Hi love, Merry Christmas baby.”

Xavier giggles happily, pulling back from his father’s embrace and sitting up so he’s perched on the man’s stomach, peering over to Louis. “Daddy?”

“He’s still asleep love. You can wake him up, just be careful yeah?”

“’Kay,” is the toddler’s response, nodding in earnest of himself, and making to climb over and off Harry to the left of the bed where Louis is splayed with the covers up to his chest, hair a mess and an arm over his eyes.

“Daddy,” the boy whispers. It’s too soft to even start to stir Louis, but the attempt is endearing. “Daddy, wake up, it’s _Christmas_ ,” the boy tries again, bending over from where he’s plopped on Louis’s chest and murmuring into his ear.

Louis stirs awake slowly, shifting around and squeezing his eyes closed tighter once, before they blink open, fluttering a couple times and adjusting to the light. Louis smiles groggily when he sees the toddler sitting on him, lifting a hand and rubbing soothing circles into the boy’s back, “Morning Bub. How’d you get here?” He raises an eyebrow, shifting his gaze from Xavier to the figure standing in the doorway in his peripheral view.

Niall’s appeared in the doorway now, leaning against the frame and watching the scene leisurely with his arms crossed lazily across his chest. “He wouldn’t go back to sleep this morning. Woke up at six thirty and begged me or Ally to bring him over.”

Louis nods, leaning up and pressing a kiss to Xavier’s forehead before looking back to Niall, “ ‘S fine, figured he wouldn’t sleep in too late today.” He smiles reassuringly at Niall sleepily.

The four of them are quiet for a moment, Louis watching Xavier on his stomach as he plays with the duvet that covers him and Harry, and Harry watching from the side of them, rubbing his hand on Xavier’s back. Niall speaks up from the doorway after the beat of silence, and there’s a smirk that he’s trying and failing to conceal on his face when Louis turns his eyes to him. “ _I see last night went well._ ”

“I’m not opposed to beating you up on Christmas mate,” Louis quips back drowsily, sass still evident in his tone as he gives Niall an unimpressed look. He turns back to Xavier and shakes his tiny hands, chanting, “No I’m not. Nooo, I’m not,” in his babiest voice to the toddler, and shaking his head emphatically, making the boy laugh.

Niall just snorts from his position in the doorway, “Wouldn’t want that mate. Anyway, I gotta get back to Ally; we’re meeting her parents for brunch before we head over to Liam’s later. Merry Christmas Lou.” Niall straightens out in the door after he’s done talking, waiting for Louis to respond before he leaves.

“Sounds good, we’ll see you there. Merry Christmas Nialler.”

Niall nods, smiling at Xavier when the boy waves ‘bye’ and adds an ‘uncle niall’ to it, and gives Louis and Harry a knowing look where they’re lying in the bed side by side. Louis happily chooses to ignore it.

He’s gone after that, and Louis waits until he hears the front door click shut before he focuses his attention back on his boy, wiping the stray curls out of his face, “Alright baby, we’re ready now.”

Xavier smiles happily, raising his hands in the air and giving a shout of, “Presents!” as Harry sits up in the bed, carefully pulling the boy of Louis and into his lap so the smaller man can get up too.

-

Louis’s always been bad at refusing Harry, and even worse when it comes to Xavier, so when he was cornered in the kitchen fifteen minutes after they had climbed out of the bed, with two pairs of Big Green Styles Eyes looking at him, begging to make Christmas cookies for breakfast, he had no other choice than to say yes. Especially because when Harry thought up the idea and let Xavier in on the secret, the toddler was quick to support Harry. Louis really couldn’t say no.

So they got the ingredients out, Harry doing most of the cooking and giving the instructions since Louis’s pretty much shit at cooking, and after they had cut out the various shapes using cookie cutters Louis’d found in a cabinet, they popped them in the oven on a cookie sheet.

They made the icing while the dough baked, and soon the kitchen was covered in red, green, and white frosting, coating the already flour and sugar littered kitchen, and there were bowls filled with icing on most surfaces and in the sink.

After the cookies were out of the oven and cooled substantially enough, Harry hoisted Xavier onto the counter, handing him a small, dull plastic knife and a plate full of cookies before he and Louis started on their own, each of them frosting an assortment of trees and Santa’s and sleighs.

Harry’s cookies were by far the most artistic, and Louis’s were close to being adequate, but they both made a big fuss when they saw Xavier’s, worshipping the boy on how beautiful his looked. To most people who didn’t have kids though, the cookies would just be splatters of red and greed with sprinkles poured randomly over the tops of them.

Xavier was a true artist, really.

They ate a couple after they finished, Xavier getting covered in frosting where he smeared it all over his face and giggling happily, already making his way into a food coma from all the sweets he was consuming.

When Xavier started getting goofy and almost fell backwards off the counter before Harry caught him with his free arm, Louis decided the boy probably had enough, letting the toddler take one more bite before wrapping up the rest of the cookies and storing them in baggies in the fridge.

Xavier seemed to remember that it was Christmas once his mind wasn’t muddled in the constant thoughts of _cookiescookiescookies_ , and he beamed brightly at his fathers, giving a cheery chant of, “Presents now!” and making to get off the counter on his own.

Harry grabbed him before he could jump off (which would have probably led to a trip to the A&E that no one wanted to experience on Christmas) and set him on the ground so he could bounce off into the living room.

“You can go sit in there with him, I just gotta grab something real quick,” Louis told Harry, the man nodding and following Xavier into the living room, and Louis jogged down to his bedroom, reaching in the closest and grabbing out what he was searching for, making his way to the living room.

Harry and Xavier were already sat in front of the tree, Harry trying to hold the boy away from opening all the presents before it was time and succeeding just barely.

“Alright love, you can open one now,” Louis told Xavier when he sat down by the other two, Xavier beaming excitedly and lunging forward for whatever present he could get his hands on first.

Xavier opened his rather large pile of presents, all from either Harry, Louis, Louis’s sisters that had sent something, or one of the lads, and getting stuff that ranged from clothes that he understandably wasn’t very interested in, to a tiny football so Louis could teach him how to play (got to start them young), a figurine he had asked Harry for at some point, and a couple of animated movies and sweets and miscellaneous toys from the girls and lads.

Xavier was on cloud nine by the time he finished opening everything, and his tiny brain was working overtime trying to figure out what to use first. Overall, the football won out, and he jumped up to his full height of three feet and some inches chaotically, kicking his feet out and trying to make contact.

Apparently, he also got his football skills from Harry, because his foot missed the ball completely on his first try and he went toppling over, landing on the ground near Harry. Xavier only giggled though, hopping back up to his feet happily and trying again, again missing. Something to work on then.

Harry and Louis sat at watched the boy play for a couple minutes, before Louis reached behind his back, grabbing what he had hid in his closest, and handing it to Harry.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “What’s this?”

Louis blushed, fidgeting from Harry’s attention. “Erm, it’s just… something I got. Um, for you? And uh, I dunno, I just thought it’d be nice because ya know, you’re here a lot and I figured erm, I don’t know?” That was less than eloquent, but really, how is he supposed to explain it to Harry? _Hey, by the way, I got you some stuff for Christmas even though we’re not actually together and we didn’t talk about it, but ya know, you mean a whole fucking lot to me, so I got you something anyway_. Yeah, no.

Louis looked up from where he was shifting his hands together when Harry was silent, meeting Harry’s eyes which were already staring back at him, soft and gentle. “Thank you, Lou. I love them.”

Louis rolls his eyes (fondly of course) and scoffs lightly. “You haven’t even opened them Haz.”

Harry’s smile brightens, “Don’t need to. Already know they're good.”

Louis just shakes his head, smiling down at his lap while he lifts an arm and rubs it down Xavier’s - who is now sitting by Louis and playing with the figurine - back soothingly. “Just open it, you sap.”

Harry does, carefully pulling off each piece of tape and making sure to not tear the paper; because he’s _that_ type of person. Xavier is in Louis’s lap, playing with Louis’s hand while he waits excitedly for Harry to take out what he got.

Harry finally unwraps it two and a half minutes later and there are three things: A ring with a blue topaz gemstone in a silver band, a package of king size Kit Kats - because they’re one of Harry’s favorite - , and a fuzzy green blanket - one long enough for the giant to use in his office at school, because he mentioned a couple weeks ago that he likes to take naps on the couch in his room some days when he’s been up late working, but the room is always freezing and Liam refuses to turn up the heat. Because apparently, the only thing Liam can be stubborn about is the temperature.

Harry looks up when he’s done unwrapping it all, and his eyes have almost disappeared with how big he’s smiling, dimples showing, and this is exactly what Louis wanted, to see Harry smile like that. “A ring?”  
  


Louis nods, rubbing a hand through Xavier’s curls absentmindedly, “Yeah,” he starts softly, “It’s Xavier’s birthstone, and I know you don’t like necklaces very much. Figured you were more likely to wear it if it could go on your finger.”

Harry beams, and he looks down at the presents again, before his eyebrows furrow and he abruptly stands up. He looks down at Louis and Xavier once where they’re sitting crisscross on the carpet and mumbling something to himself, before he turns around and walks to the door, opening it and walking straight out without even closing it, a look of determination on his face.

Louis sits agape for a second, staring at the door. Did- did he just leave? Louis’s confused. Did he do something wrong? Did Harry not like it? What if it was too much? What if -

Except Harry walks back through the door right then, before Louis can completely have a freak out, and - oh.

There’s a box in his hands, covered in red Santa Claus wrapping paper, and Harry stalks forward - looks kinda shy honestly, if not a little bashful - and sits back down, right in front of Louis. “Here.” He shoves it into Louis’s lap.

Louis takes it, raising an eyebrow at Harry.

“I, erm, got you something too. It’s not much or anything, just - yeah. I was going to give it to you at Liam’s, but you already gave me yours, and… I didn’t want to wait…?” he explains sheepishly, and he sounds more like he’s asking by the end of the sentence.

Louis’s beaming though, so Harry doesn’t think he needs to be as nervous (he still is).

Louis opens it - not as carefully as Harry, he’s never claimed to be a patient person - and pulls out what’s inside. As Louis lifts each thing out of the wrapper, Harry explains them .

Bluetooth headphones: “You kept eyeing them in the store when we were shopping for Zee, and I know you like to listen to music while you grade papers after school, but earbuds hurt your ears, so…”

A hoodie from the University they attended together, The University of London. One that looks _suspiciously_ like the one Louis always took from Harry back then: “Um, I know you don’t like to wear coats, because they get uncomfortable when you’re sitting down, but you get cold easy, so I got you one like the one you liked in Uni.”

Louis’s pretty sure Harry gave him his - didn’t get him one _like_ the one from University - because he can see how it’s a little worn, and there’s a tiny stain on the left sleeve that Louis’s pretty sure he put there when he was eating spaghetti a couple years ago, but he doesn’t mind. In fact, he thinks he likes it more that it’s actually Harry’s. And given that Harry was already bigger than Louis in University - and Louis hasn’t grown since then - it stills fits; will probably even be a little big, give him sweater paws. He loves it.

And - “Oh my gosh, _Haz_.” The DVD variation of all nine seasons of One Tree Hill, _and_ behind the scenes, bloopers, and takes that didn’t make it into the airing episodes: “You always wanted to watch it in Uni when we stayed in, and I found a set when I was shopping for Zee, and I just thought - maybe you still like it?”

Yes, Louis likes it. Loves it. Because if it wasn’t for Harry coming along all those years go, Louis would probably have been in love with Chad Michael Murray and Chad Michael Murray _only_ , for the rest of his life. (Louis _might_ have had a slight obsession with the man, the series, and the man’s book. What can he say? Chad’s hot).

“ _Haz_.”

Harry’s eyes look nervous, anxious, trying to search Louis for a reaction. “Do you like it?”

And Harry just sounds so fucking desperate to please Louis, make him happy, sounds vulnerable. It makes Louis’s heart ache a little. “I love it, H. I love it so much. Thank you.”

Harry visibly relaxes and he smiles softly, pulling Xavier into his lap from where he’s started walking around, holding the boy tight and he looks so happy now too. They both do, all three of them really.

Xavier doesn’t really know what his fathers are doing, just knows they’re presents around, and he gets some of them, and that his parents are happy, and Louis and Harry are beaming, smiling so brightly at each other and just _looking_ , not tearing their gazes away and being _happy_.

-

They watched Christmas movies and listened to Christmas music for the rest of the morning into the early afternoon, the three of them cuddled on the couch as Grinch played on the screen in front of them and Xavier was squished happily between Harry and Louis with another sugar cookie in his hand, his sippy in the other.

It was three when they rolled off the couch and started getting ready, Louis changing into a pumpkin-colored jumper and a pair of comfy black jeans to go with it, putting Xavier into a pair of joggers and a Christmas sweater that reads ‘Daddy’s favorite present’. It’s pretty accurate, he supposes.

Harry had gone back to his house to change, promising to come back and pick Louis and Xavier up at half four to take them to Liam’s. Sure enough, he came back an hour and a half later in a pair of off-white, loose trousers and a black short-sleeve dress shirt with a dipping V-neck, fitting perfectly over his wide shoulders and showing off the tops of his collar bones and his biceps.

They were out of the flat by four forty-five, Harry in the driver seat of his Range Rover and Louis sitting passenger side, Xavier happy in his car seat and giggling at what he saw pass outside the window as they drove.

Seventeen minutes after that, the three of them were walking up to the door of Liam’s house, ringing the doorbell and having the entrance opened to them with an apron-clad Liam standing in front of them. “You’re here!”  
  


Louis leans in to meet the bigger man’s embrace and pulls back with a look of mock-disgust. “And you’re… covered in flour?”  
  


Liam flushes a little, the poor guy, and leans back, smiling at Harry politely and giving Xavier a lopsided, goofy smile. “Yeah, Bear got a little too crazy when he was helping. Kitchen was a proper mess.”

At the mention of his friend, Xavier is catapulting himself into the house, running through the foyer he already knows excitedly and turning a corner to the living room as his curls flap at the speed on his tiny head.

“He’s excited,” Liam grins when he turns back around.

Louis turns, giving a glare to Harry before facing Liam again with an unamused huff. “Yes. _Someone_ \- I’m not gonna name names, but it was Harry - snuck him three extra cookies right before we got in the car and it seems the sugar is kicking in.”

“He said he was hungry!” Harry defends behind him, grinning innocently at Louis when the smaller man turns around to chastise him again.

“C’mon in mate,” Liam responds in lieu of taking sides, and Louis does, patting his mate on the shoulder and walking in. “Thanks Lima.”

Liam dismisses himself as soon as he’s taken Louis and Harry’s coats, giving some excuse about having to get the turkey out of the oven. Louis makes his way into the living room then, Harry following after like a lost puppy, and they’re met with the faces of about ten other people when they enter.

Zayn and Gigi are sitting on the couch, tucked into each other’s sides as they watch whatever’s on the television, Ally and Niall are sitting with their backs up against the couch as they talk with Maya, and the three of them are keeping an eye on the two toddlers playing to the side in between conversations.

The room is comfy, decorated warmly and there’s some left-over wrapping paper scattered in bits under the tree, presumably from where it was left by Bear.

Everyone had agreed to celebrating together in the evening for Christmas, giving time in the morning and early afternoon for each couple to meet up with whichever set of parents they were due to see this year, first. Zayn and Gigi had gone and seen Zayn’s mother and sisters while they were in town, Ally and Niall had eaten brunch with Ally’s parents like he had said this morning, and Liam spent the day with Maya, Bear, and Cheryl (because Liam is miraculously amazing at everything and is actually _genuinely_ good friends with his ex-girlfriend/the mother of his son, even after they split a couple years ago, and Maya is a big fan of her too).

When they enter, they’re greeted with multiple _hellos_ and Merry Christmases from the lot of them, and as soon as he registers his fathers, Xavier is up and running, barreling into Louis’s leg excitedly, yelling, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!”

Louis smiles fondly at the grin on his kid’s face, squatting down in front of his boy, “Hi, love. What’s up?”

The toddler ecstatically holds out a figurine, shoving it in Louis’s face, “Look! Bear got the same toy as me! Now we can play together, Daddy!”

Louis smiles, pretending to be in awe of the toy in his son’s hand, as if getting the two boys the same present hadn’t been planned. “That’s awesome baby!”

Xavier just nods eagerly before he’s barreling back away, plopping sloppily back onto the ground next to Bear and playing with him again, off in their own little world.

By the time he’s stood back up, Harry is already at the couch, sitting in front of the other five adults and talking about something that’s obviously got Harry excited, if the grin on his face is anything to go by.

Louis treads over, plopping himself down at Harry’s side and leaning absentmindedly into the man, as he looks up at Zayn who’s speaking, joining into the conversation.

Harry wraps a comfortable arm around Louis like it’s nothing, pulling him closer, and when Zayn turns to include them in the topic at hand, he looks a little confused, his gaze flickering between the two and brows furrowed. Louis guesses he’s probably wondering when they went from sharing Xavier ever week as their only interaction, to practically cuddling in front of their closest and longest friends. Louis’s wondering too honestly, but the heat of Harry’s body next to him and the pleasant boyish smell (something like vanilla) that the man has never been able to rid himself of is comforting, and he thinks it’s okay to ignore the questions for now. He’s always been good at ignoring his problems anyway, and maybe this isn't even a problem at all. Either way, Louis isn’t thinking about it.

Harry leaves his space in between Louis and the couch arm twenty minutes later, making his way into the kitchen to help when he hears Liam yelp and then shout out an, “I’m fine!” a few seconds later, but by the burning smell coming from the kitchen, he’s probably not, and he’s probably just burned the main course.

They sit down to eat an hour later, just in time because the toddlers were beginning to complain, and Louis’s actually thankful for the cookies Harry fed Xavier, otherwise there probably would have been two grumpy toddlers sooner than that.

The meal’s nice, beyond it actually. Liam had spent the better part of the afternoon preparing food, setting turkey and mashed potatoes and rolls onto the tablecloth that was layed over the large table when it was time. Ally’s mother had made them cranberry jam and had handed it off to Niall and her that morning at brunch, and Niall had bought green beans from the store as well (Liam’s request).

Desert consisted of an assortment of things: a cake that Gigi had baked and Zayn had helped to decorate, a pumpkin pie that Maya had made, the cookies that Xavier, Harry, and Louis had brought, and random types of chocolates and sweets. Louis’s pretty sure that Xavier’s going to be sick tomorrow with all the sugar he’s had - Louis thinks he probably will be too - but Christmas only comes once in three hundred sixty-five days, and Louis was always taught to make the most of it if nothing else.

Everything was just so nice. The food, the conversation, the atmosphere in general. It flowed easily and there was constantly something going on around the table: Liam telling an embarrassing story about one of the lads, Xavier spilling some of his food and Harry having to cheer him up with silly faces before the toddler started crying from the loss of food (Louis thinks it’s Niall’s fault for Xavier thinking food is _that_ important, enough to cry over), or everyone going around the table and telling jokes, and pretty awful ones at that.

It just felt _right_ , and it was like life was going in slow motion when Louis looked around the table, taking in the people he loves most in the world and laughing with them. Louis thinks this is how it was meant to be.

After dinner had been cleaned up - a joint effort from everyone except Louis who had managed to weasel his way out of it (something everybody already expected) - the ten of them sat around the telly, the toddlers picking out a movie to watch (Frozen, naturally), while the adults talked quietly behind them, making up jokes about the movie to keep themselves entertained with the thing the toddlers were so invested in.

When the credits rolled, Xavier and Bear got the sudden idea to beg for hot cocoa, and fifteen minutes later they were sitting on the ground drinking cups of hot chocolate because Harry had caved and begged Louis to let them have some, which of course led to Louis caving and letting Harry make it for them. He really has a problem with saying no to big green eyes and brown curls. Seriously.

It’s when Louis is sitting on the couch half an hour later, humming along to the Christmas music that’s playing in the background of Liam’s antique record player, that Liam walks over from the conversation he was in with Niall and Zayn, sitting beside Louis quietly.

Louis acknowledges him with a nod of his head and takes a sip of his second cup of hot cocoa, content with listening to the various conversations and soft chatter that fills the room. Liam is too apparently, watching his fiancé and smiling fondly before flickering his eyes to his son and looking just about the same. He speaks up a couple minutes later though, voice soft as he asks what’s apparently been on his mind.

“Is he coming to New Year’s?”

Louis turns to his best mate, smiling softly before he turns back to face the room without an answer. He looks over to where Harry is sitting in the corner with Xavier on his lap, making the boy giggle while he tries to wash the dried chocolate off his mouth with a wet rag. It makes Louis smile, the picture of it, and he must have gotten a little too lost in the image, because Liam is standing up a couple of undefined moments later, shaking his head and grinning amusedly at Louis. “I’ll take that as a yes, mate.” If he walks away laughing, Louis can't be bothered to care.

The night carries on, and it’s just so lovely. Louis doesn’t know how else to describe it. Everything feels familiar and comfortable and easy, the way all of them are with each other like they’re actually family and not just close friends; or lovers that only saw each other for the first time in years, five months ago. It’s scary to Louis honestly, like it could all disappear as fast as it came, and that thought it absolutely _terrifying_. Louis refuses to entertain it.

It’s ten by the time everyone is saying their goodbyes, and Bear and Xavier have already been in bed since eight, crashing almost immediately after they finished their hot chocolates, needing Liam to carry them to Bear’s room to let them sleep while the adults continued to socialize.

Zayn and Gigi left first, saying something about finishing an episode of some show they were on, and Niall and Ally following shortly after with the excuse of needing to switch the laundry (everyone knew that was bullshit and they were really just going to go fuck, but everyone was also kind enough to not call them out on it). Harry and Louis were the last ones out, Harry hauling Louis up off the couch and leaving him to get his jacket on while the taller one went and grabbed Xavier from Bear’s bed.

They waved their goodbyes to Liam and Maya as they walked out the door, Xavier in Harry’s arms and Louis leaning up against him for support to make it to the car.

They’re exhausted by the time they get home, and Xavier is completely out in the back of the car. Harry carries the boy to the door as Louis grabs his key and opens the entrance to the flat, the three of them walking inside. Harry’s quick to tuck Xavier into bed, and by the time he walks into Louis’s room, the slightly older man is already buried under the blanket, covers up to his neck and changed into joggers, leaving his chest bare. Harry changes into one of Louis’s oversized sweats - only because Harry doesn’t think they’re at the point where he can just sleep naked, like he’d like to do - and climbs in after Louis. He rolls himself over, settling behind Louis and holding the man to his chest. He presses a soft kiss to the back of Louis’s head and whispers a gentle goodnight, letting his heavy eyelids flutter shut and he falls asleep to the peaceful sound of Louis’s even breaths.

**_xviii._ **

Louis swears he didn’t _mean_ to get drunk on New Year’s Eve. And really, he’s not _drunk_ per say, just tipsy. Which. That might be worse. Because Louis can still be blamed for his choices at the moment - given that he’s not completely intoxicated, just a little buzzed - and he has a good feeling he’s gonna get some looks from his best mates come Friday morning, given that he’s here sprawled over Harry’s leg on the couch in Liam’s living room and all.

He just. He wants to relax. Xavier’s already in bed at home, currently under the watchful eye of Lottie, who agreed to babysit for the night since she just recently broke up with her boyfriend and didn’t feel like going out to celebrate. Louis loves his little sister.

So after Xavier was tucked into bed at seven, and the toddler had already celebrated New Year’s at ‘midnight’ (Louis learned his parenting skills from the best - his mother - so he and Harry set the clocks a couple hours forward, celebrated with Xavier at six thirty, and tucked the boy into bed shortly after. It worked like a charm, and Xavier had been ecstatic that he got to stay up so late, the poor misled boy.), Louis and Harry had gotten dressed, hopping in the car with a bottle of champagne and driving to Liam’s after Lottie had shown up.

And here Louis is, four glasses and two shots in, halfway to being drunk off his arse and perched happily on Harry’s lap, the man’s strong arm wrapped around his waist to keep him steady. Liam, Maya, Zayn, Gigi, Niall, and Ally are all present, including a couple other coworkers and a few miscellaneous friends that had been invited as well.

The party was held at Liam’s house like Christmas was - since Liam is the only one of their group who has a _house_ and not a flat - and everyone was spread out over the couple of rooms, socializing (which, wow that’s a big word for Louis right now) with whoever they ran into.

Louis’s particular group that was sat in the living room splayed around the coffee table and lounging on the couch included Liam, Niall, Ally, Gigi, Harry, and himself.

And Louis thinks he must have gotten a little lost in the green of Harry’s eyes, because now Harry’s looking at him, a small smirk playing on his lips as his fingers rub soothing circles right above the dimples of Louis’s back. “You alright love?”

Louis tilts his head, a lopsided grin on his face, “You’re _pretty_ ,” he drawls out, the words slurring together just a bit and lifting a finger up to tap Harry’s chest. He misses; hits his chin.

Okay so maybe he isn’t just tipsy; drunk has seemed to slip its way in there between drink three and shot two. Whoops.

Harry chuckles, smiling at the compliment and holding Louis tight, “I think you’re drunk, baby.”

Maybe, but Louis doesn’t want to dwell on it. “I like when you call me that,” he says instead. Drunk Louis likes to be honest he guesses, has no shame, especially not with the way he’s been clinging to Harry’s body for the last half an hour, give or take.

“Yeah?”

Louis nods dreamily, sighs out a, “ _Yeahhh_.”

“What about ‘love’?” Harry looks a little smug, Louis thinks. It’s a good look on him, honestly.

Louis ponders, a serious expression on his face while he thinks. He nods, a lazy smile replacing his frown. “Yeah. Like that too.”

“Yeah? What else do you like?” Harry hums, still keeping a hand on Louis’s back. Louis senses that might be all that’s grounding him right now, keeping him on Earth rather than letting him float off to cloud nine and act however he wants. It feels nice, being in between the two.

“Like when you mess with me.”

“Yeah? Like when I get you riled up love?”

_Yes_. Something swirls in Louis’s tummy. “Yeah. Love that.” Thinks he might love _him_.

Oh. Well. At least he can blame the thought on the alcohol now that it’s been established that he’s definitely well past sober.

Wait. “Why aren’t you drunk, H?”

Harry smiles softly, “Gotta drive us home baby.”

Home? Like, as in _theirs_? As in shared?

“No you don’t. We can walk.” Louis nods, sure. He wants Harry to be as relaxed as him right now.

“Not sure how sober you would feel about that Lou. Think he might get mad at me.”

Louis shakes his head vehemently, “Won’t be mad at you. Want you to be happy.”

Happy equals drunk, right? Right.

“I am happy, love.”

Louis smiles brightly and he was probably about to go on a rant about how Harry _can’t_ be happy, not if he’s not drunk on New Year’s Eve, probably would have spit out some shit about how Harry will be so glad he drank something. For example: Louis’s drunk; he’s happy. Harry should be happy. Happy is nice. The pizza they had last night was nice. Except Harry ordered vegetables and that wasn’t nice. Louis didn’t like it. Maybe that’s why Harry isn’t happy. Yeah. Louis will have to fix that next time. That will make Harry happy -

But then Niall’s bounding into the room - Louis doesn’t know when he left - with an empty beer bottle in his hand. He’s drunk, very obviously so, probably close to Louis’s state, and he’s grinning when he all but yells, “SPIN THE BOTTLE!”

-

Louis decides solemnly that he in fact does _not_ like spin the bottle. Why are they playing it anyway? They’re not twelve; they can snog who they want. But Louis thinks it’s a little too late for that logic - was it even logic? Is Louis making sense? Probably not - because everyone has already stumbled their way into the living room, plopping down in a circle like middle schoolers and waiting for someone to go first.

Niall does.

Naturally, he gets Ally, and they make out sloppily for a couple minutes before Liam pulls Niall back, tells him to stop being such an animal in front of everyone. Niall only smirks at his long-term girlfriend.

Liam’s next; isn’t so lucky and gets a year three teacher from the school, Matt. He takes it like a champ though- not like it isn't something he experimented with in Uni - and leans forward to quickly press his lips against Matt’s. When he pulls back, Maya looks kind of intrigued. Well.

They go around the circle - there’s probably twenty of them - and there’s a multitude of different pairs: guys and guys, girls and girls, guys and girls, couples; then it’s Harry’s turn.

Harry looks excited. Louis’s nervous. Why is Louis nervous? Must be the alcohol.

Harry spins.

The bottle spins.

It slows, stops.

It lands on -

Oh.

Harry doesn’t even question it before he’s leaning forward to press his lips to Maya’s. It’s quick and everyone’s giggling because Liam doesn’t even look bothered - _not_ because he doesn’t care about his fiancé, but because Harry’s gay, very gay, and the kiss is more of a joke than anything.

Louis feels funny though; he isn't giggling. It’s his turn. His head hurts a little. Might be the alcohol, might be the weird feeling he has in his tummy right now.

Louis doesn’t want to take his turn anymore.

He stands (stumbles) up, staggering out of the living room without another thought and ignores the looks of confusion he’s getting from his mates. He finds the kitchen, and in the back of his mind - behind all the jumbled mess - he can still hear what’s coming from the other room, can hear the laughs and cheers. Are they laughing at him? No, that’s silly. You’re drunk Louis; they probably just went onto the next turn.

Louis finds the vodka, pours it into a shot glass.

It burns a little, sliding down his throat, but it feels nice. Louis wants more. He takes another.

“Hey.”

Louis turns around as he’s setting down the glass on the counter.

Oh. It’s Harry. He looks worried. Why is he worried? Why does Louis’s head hurt so much?

“Why’d you leave love? It was your turn.”

Right.

Louis’s suddenly remembers he’s still upset, even if he doesn’t know why. He pouts, turns back to his glass. His throat feels a little tight and his eyes sting when the picture of Harry and Maya with their lips together flashes through his head. The alcohol helps.

“ _Hey_.”

He feel’s Harry’s hand reach for his bicep as he’s about to pour himself another glass. “Baby, are you upset?”

Louis furrows his eyebrows. “No,” he mumbles out.

Harry doesn’t believe him for a second, not that Louis’s very convincing with the scowl on his face and all. “Why are you upset, Lou?”

Louis shakes his head, still faced away from Harry. His eyes burn a little; is he really going to cry? Louis forgot to mention that he’s an emotional drunk, too.

“Can you turn around love? So I can look at you?”  
  


Louis does, shot glass still in hand, but he doesn’t make eye contact with Harry. The six pack on the counter is suddenly very interesting.

“Maybe you should stop drinking love, you’ve had a lot.”

Louis pouts some more. “ ‘M a big boy, I can drink as much as I want.”

Harry takes the glass from Louis’s grip, setting it gently on the counter. “I know baby. You are. But you don’t want your head to hurt too much tomorrow yeah?”

Louis thinks about that for a second. Harry’s right; his head is gonna pound like a bitch come morning. Maybe he should take Harry’s advice just this once. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

Silence. Louis looks up to see Harry’s already looking at him. “What’s wrong Lou? Why’d you leave? You can tell me sweetheart, it’s okay.”

Can he? Maybe.

Louis mumbles something out, dropping his gaze to Harry’s chest so he doesn’t have to look the man in the eyes. “What was that love?”

“Didn’t want you to kiss her,” he mumbles again, slightly more coherent.

“What? Who are you talking about love?”

Louis shakes his head when he looks up to meet Harry’s eyes again and thinks maybe he really will cry. _God_ , he’s such a baby, but is it so unreasonable that he doesn’t like seeing the father of his child kiss another woman? That he doesn’t want to sit on a living room floor and giggle when he just wants to be cuddled and reassured? Harry quickly understands the look of frustration from Louis, though, that he doesn’t wanna say it. “Maya? You don’t like that I kissed her?”

Louis shakes his head.

“Why not love? Why can’t I kiss her?”

“Because.”

“That’s not good enough Lou.”

_Why can’t Harry understand it?_ Louis’s frustrated mind speaks up, determined not to back down nonetheless.

“Wanted you to kiss someone else.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s that then?” Harry sounds amused, smug. Louis sees he looks it too when he meets Harry’s eyes again.

“Don’t wanna say it,” he pouts.

Harry hums, “Well, that’s too bad. Was gonna kiss whoever it was too, just to make up for it. Guess I can’t now, not if I don’t know who it was. What a shame, I--”

“Me!”

Harry pauses, and now Louis can really see the smirk on his face, “What was that love?”

Louis feels a little smaller in front of Harry, cheeks heating up and a blush crawling it’s way onto his face. He plays with his fingers, distracts himself and mumbles, “It was me. …I wanted to kiss you…”

“You?”

Louis nods.

“Is that why you’re upset baby? Wanted me to kiss you during the game, have everybody watch me show them you’re mine?”

Louis’s face feels hot, _mine_. “But that’s not how it works, is it baby? You don’t get to choose.”

“Well. No, but--”

“So why were you waiting for it, Lou? Thought the rules don’t matter for you?”

“No, but I--”

“That’s kinda selfish isn't it, baby? Why should you get special treatment huh? That’s not very good of you, Lou.”

Louis gasps a little. Good. _Not_ good. He wants to be good. “Yes but - I. Er… yes?”

“You askin’ me?”

Louis shakes his head feverishly. Harry’s right in front of him now, pressing his smaller body up against the counter behind him, pinning his hips with his strong ones and crowding into his face. All Louis can feel and see and smell is Harry and it’s intoxicating. “You want a kiss now, baby? Will that make it better?”

Harry’s voice is low and strong, confident. Louis’s never nodded his head faster.

Harry’s lips are on his immediately, and the weird feeling in the pit of Louis’s stomach is gone and he feels _lighter_.

They’re lips mold together and Harry lifts him onto the counter at some point. It’s feels like he’s meant to have Harry’s lips against his at all times in moments like these, feels like he can breathe better even when Harry leaves him breathless. He vaguely registers hearing cheers coming from the living room and the sound of champagne bottles opening - it must be midnight, Louis thinks absentmindedly - but Louis can't be bothered to care. He’s already got Harry’s lips on his and that’s all he wants.

**_xix._ **

Louis’s not sure how he didn’t realize that the International Conference on Teaching, Education, & Learning - a conference he has to attend every year - had been scheduled for the beginning of January. He’s not sure how he completely managed to miss it on his calendar and forget that it was coming up, forget that he needed to get someone to watch Xavier since the conference is in Oxford - two-and-a-half hours away - and he can’t bring his son, but he did.

Lottie had done it the few previous years, but she had exams coming up in University, and this time she wasn’t able to put of studying for an extra weekend. Niall and Zayn were attending the conference with him, meaning they couldn’t watch the toddler for the two nights he was going to be gone either, and Liam was already out of town for a wedding of a friend from sixth form, not getting back until two days after the conference ended.

That left Harry.

And it’s not like Louis is _against_ Harry watching Xavier for three days and two nights, he’s just _apprehensive_. Harry would be on his own with this, and if something would go wrong, Louis wouldn’t be around to help, wouldn’t be able to just drive over and fix something. Harry would be the sole parent in charge of Xavier for the first time, and although it wasn’t a _long_ period of time, Louis was still worried.

Not that Harry’s incompetent, Louis knows he isn’t, it’s just. Leaving Xavier with Harry meant Harry having to do everything for him, everything Louis would normally do, and he’d have to do it before he was able to do something for himself. That’s just how parenting works. Harry hadn’t had that responsibility before, and it’s a lot, to just suddenly be sprung with the well-being of another human, especially a young one.

So Louis had his worries, but he also didn’t have a choice.

Harry was beyond excited though, ecstatic even. Xavier had been to his house before during some of their visits, but he had never stayed over, and Harry was eager to finally be able to have the boy stay at his house for a night, let alone two.

And his enthusiasm helped to calm Louis’s nerves, but of course it was going to be impossible for Louis to be completely accepting of this. Harry was responsible, yes. He took amazing care of Xavier, definitely, and Louis had no doubt that there was nothing in the world he loved more than the boy, but for the first time, Louis wouldn’t be around, and that terrified him.

Xavier beamed when he was told he would get to spend a couple days with his other father. He had gone on and on about what he and Harry were going to do and how fun it was going to be, and Louis missed the boy already. He still didn’t leave for another three days.

When Wednesday morning hit, and Louis was throwing the last of his things into his suitcase, there was a knock at his door. He heard it click open (Xavier had learned how to unlock the deadbolt on the flat door a couple weeks ago) and then the fond voice of Harry as he greeted his son. “Hey baby.”

Louis could hear the soft voices of Harry and Xavier in the living room as he stuffed the last shirt into his bag, sitting on top of it to get it to close (Louis had the incredible ability of overpacking for literally everything. He’s pretty sure he brought twelve different outfits for the three days he’ll be there) and zipped it shut.

He hauled the carrier out to the entrance, Harry greeting him when he walks in. “Hey, Lou.”

“Hi,” he huffs, bringing the suitcase to a halt next to him and looking up.

Harry’s beaming, and Louis can see how excited he is, practically glowing. Liam told him Harry has been talking about it to anyone and everyone since Louis asked Harry if he’d be able to watch Xavier, but Louis didn’t one hundred percent believe that until now.

“You’re all packed?” Harry asks, leaning down to grab Xavier in his arms when the boy keeps pulling on the cuff of his trousers.

“Yeah, Zayn should be here soon. We’re taking his car.”

Harry nods, looking around the flat thoughtfully before speaking up. “So… you gonna give me a list of rules or somethin’?”

Louis furrows his eyebrows, “Right,” he nods solemnly, turning around to look for it.

When he grabs the sheet off the table where he left it, he’s met with a gaping Harry, holding an excited Xavier in his arms. “I… was joking.”

“Oh.”

It’s silent for a moment, before Harry sighs, popping his hip with Xavier on it out while he waits, indulging Louis. “Go ahead.”

Louis’s grins at the fact that Harry doesn’t even try to fight it, and he feels a little better that he’s telling Harry all of this now, before, so he’s sure Harry hears and understands all of it. He rattles off the list, letting Harry absorb all the information and answering questions that he’s glad Harry asks.

Louis’s on the last point (read: “make sure to bathe him every night and get him in bed before seven-thirty _\- no sweets after six…_ I mean it Harry _)_ when Niall is appearing behind Harry, an excited smile on his face and a bag in his hand. “C’mon Tommo, what are ya waiting for? Zayn’s here mate.”

Louis sighs, scanning over the list one more time quickly, making sure he didn’t forget anything and nodding unsurely. “Right. Okay. Right. I’ll meet you at the car, give me a sec.”

Niall nods, still smiling brightly - too brightly for 7 fucking AM, Louis thinks - and bounces back down the way he came, making his way out to where Louis presumes Zayn parked his car.

Louis’s eyes dart around the flat, double checking he has everything, before shifting his eyes back to Harry.

And he must look as bad as he feels because Harry’s features soften, continuing to rub a thumb on Xavier’s back soothingly as he reassures Louis. “Hey, it’s going to be okay, yeah? I watch him all the time love, I know what I’m doing. He’s safe, Lou, I promise. It’s only three days.”

Louis nods. Xavier’s going to be safe, that’s what matters. Harry’s safe. Xavier’s safe. It’s going to be okay.

Louis repeats that in his head as a mantra.

“Yeah. Yeah - okay.” He nods a couple times, eyebrows still furrowed in worry as he makes sure he isn't forgetting to tell Harry anything last minute. He thinks he might be nodding now just to reassure himself.

“Yeah.” He nods again.

“You already said that Lou.”

The man’s voice is playful and amused, and the dork in front of him is grinning, ear to ear, and holding Xavier to him; it makes Louis smile too. He thinks that was probably the point, Harry just wanted to remind him that this was _Harry_ taking care of his own _son_ , and that everything was going to be fine. It’ll be _fine_.

“Okay. I have to go. Yeah.” Louis steps forward, grabbing his suitcase with his left arm and getting closer to Harry. “I love you baby,” he says as he presses a kiss to his boy’s curls, pushing his fringe out of his face.

The toddler beams. “Love you, Daddy.”

-

It’s not fine.

Well, at least not for Louis.

Xavier is doing amazing, though. He’s thriving really, from what Louis can tell. Harry is sending him updates every hour (Xavier had Thursday off from school due to a burst pipe in the fourth years hallway, and the school cancelled for the day to fix it), pictures of the toddler in front of a _Monopoly_ board or playing outside in a fluffy coat on his day off, so as not to get bitten by the cold weather that is still looming over London. He’s beaming in every shot, radiating joy, and it’s like it’s Christmas morning all over again for the toddler.

Louis though, Louis thinks he probably has a slight _, minor_ case of separation anxiety.

He’s only been gone for two days and all he wants is to see his boy again. He hates this, hates being away from him. Hates not being the one to wake him up in the morning and feed him breakfast before school.

He’s had seminars all day, the first of them having started the night before after all the visitors had settled into the dorms they would be lodging in for the extent of the retreat and beginning seven AM sharp Thursday morning.

Zayn had been in Louis’s first few conferences for the morning, and they met up with Niall for lunch in the mess hall before Zayn was off to his next meeting and Niall was walking with Louis to the only seminar they have together this weekend.

It feels a little like University if Louis’s honest, having lectures all day and squeezing any free time into a hang out with his mates before he's back in class.

It doesn’t help that Xavier is constantly on his mind, Louis checking his phone every thirteen minutes to see if Harry has sent him something else. And Louis knows he’s away from his son all day when he’s at work, but that’s just so _different_. They’re in the same building - the same _city_ \- not two hours apart. So yeah, it sucks and it’s shit and Louis’s probably going to send Liam or something in his place next year so he doesn’t have to be away from his son, but he gets to talk to Xavier on the phone tonight after his lectures finish - roughly four hours away - so it’s okay.

-

“Hi Daddy!”

Louis instantly softens at the sound of his boy’s voice, an exhausted smile on his face. He can't wait to be home. “Hi baby. You doin’ okay?”

Louis can't actually see, but he’s pretty sure the toddler is nodding his head aggressively. “Yeah Daddy. Love it here.”

“Yeah? Are you having fun Bub?”

“Yeah, lots! ‘Arry lets me use his Xbox, Dadda.”

Louis raises an eyebrow, “Oh? Didn’t know that love.”

Xavier just giggles on the other end of the line, the little angel.

“I miss you baby,” Louis sighs.

“I miss you too Daddy. Wish you were here with us.”

That hits Louis a little differently. He knew it would be hard on Xavier too, but now that he can actually hear the wishful sound of the toddler’s voice - now that he can hear how much his boy really does miss him - Louis realizes how big of a deal this is for Xavier too. This isn't just the first time _Louis’s_ been gone from his son for this long; it’s the first time for _Xavier_ too. But he’s dealing with it so well and Louis’s so fucking proud of his baby. He hasn’t even complained, and Louis loves his boy.

“Are you being good for Harry Bub?”

“Yeah Daddy. ‘M listening.”

Louis smiles. “Good baby. I’m glad.”

They talk for a couple more minutes - Xavier babbling on about something that happened at school on Wednesday and Louis acknowledging his boy when it’s needed to let the toddler know he’s paying attention - and then they’re saying their goodbyes.

“I love you baby. I can't wait to see you tomorrow love. Can you hand the phone to Harry now?”

“Yeah, love you Daddy,” is the toddler’s response before there’s rustling on the other end of the line and then Harry is speaking. “Hi Lou.”

“Hi,” Louis breathes back, closing his eyes sleepily.

Harry’s voice just sounds so nice - soft from the other end of the line - and maybe Louis misses him a lot too.

“How’s the lectures going?”  
  
Louis hums, “Good. Bit boring, but that’s to be expected.”

He can hear Harry nodding through the receiver. “How’s it going over there? It going well?”  
  


Louis can hear the smile in Harry’s voice when he responds. “Yeah. It’s going really well actually. Wednesday was a bit rough because he forgot you weren't going to be here after school, but I took him for ice cream after and that seemed to fix it. Been pretty great since.”

Louis smiles, “Ah, glad to know I can be replaced by ice cream so easily.”

“You know that’s not what I meant Lou.” He can practically hear Harry’s pout from the phone, and it’s endearing, really.

Louis chuckles, “I know love. ‘M messing with you. I’m glad it’s going well, H.”

“Me too,” Harry sighs dreamily.

Louis nods even though he can't be seen, and they’re quiet for a moment - probably trying to think about what to say next. Louis speaks up when he finally gets the nerve to voice the thoughts that are running through his head. “Thank you,” he breaths into the receiver, voice soft and quiet.

Harry seems a little lost on the other end of the line and he’s quiet for a moment. “What for?”

Louis smiles slightly,” Just - thank you, H.”

It’s quiet and Louis thinks he might have to spell this out for Harry, but then it clicks for the other man.

“Of course, Lou.”

And his voice is so _soft_ , so fond. It relaxes Louis, makes him just that much less anxious, and he smiles lazily as his hand holds the phone up to his ear from where it’s resting on his knee while he sits against the headboard of the bed in his room.

They hang up shortly after that when neither of them has anything left to say and Louis has reminded Harry that he’ll be home tomorrow afternoon, after they’ve eaten breakfast at the retreat and Zayn’s driven them home.

Louis goes to sleep happy, ready to wake up the next morning and see Xavier, see Harry.

-

“Daddy!”

Louis grins, squatting down as the four-year-old runs full speed down the preschool hallway and into his arms, curls flapping in the wind.

Louis had gotten back an hour ago and he went to the school to get some work done before picking Xavier up from class. The boy lands against his body with an _oomph_ , and the force of the toddler colliding with him knocks him off his feet and he falls back, holding his boy to him.

“Hi love. I missed you so much baby.”

Xavier squeezes his arms that are wrapped around Louis’s neck tighter, clinging to his father and burrowing his head into the crook of Louis’s neck. “Missed you too Daddy.”

Louis hugs his boy tight, holding him in the empty hallway for a couple minutes while he lets Xavier soak up all the _Louis_ he had been missing for the last three days, Louis doing the same.

When they pull back, Louis presses a kiss to the toddler’s forehead before standing them up, pulling his boy into his arms and grabbing the boy’s bookbag in his free hand, walking towards the exit, “Why don’t we go home, and you can tell me all about your day Bub?”

-

Louis knew the sleepover at Harry’s went well, but he didn’t know it went well enough for Xavier to ask if he could call his other father ‘Papa’ when he was getting tucked into bed that night. To say Louis was stunned is an understatement. Honestly, he kind of just figured Xavier would call Harry by his first name for the rest of his life, but Louis guesses that was kind of naïve, especially with how attached Xavier has gotten to Harry recently.

The sleepover at Harry’s must have been the last thing Xavier needed to ask though - Louis still isn’t sure exactly why the boy thought he needed to ask Louis, but he figures it has something to do with loyalty and all that (at least that’s what Liam told him on the phone that night when he asked) - because the boy was all confidence when he rolled around in his bed and looked at Louis with all the excitement in the world.

Naturally, Louis couldn’t say ‘no’ to that face (not that he would have - Xavier can call Harry whatever he wants, and ‘Papa’ seems like a good differentiation between him and Harry), and Xavier had beamed when Louis told him he could; the toddler went to bed smiling until sleep took over and his face muscles relaxed.

-

Harry comes by to drop the blanket Xavier had left at his house off the following morning, and Xavier greets him.

Harry had knocked before opening the unlocked door to the flat, walking in and smiling when he caught sight of his son. Xavier jumped up from where he and Louis were sitting on the floor in front of the couch in the living room, running full speed at Harry and knocking into his leg and wrapping his arms around Harry’s thigh excitedly. “Hi Papa!”

Harry’s eyes widen and his smile falters, staring at his son in stunned silence. The expression on his face is something between adoration and disbelief, probably, and his eyes flicker to Louis, like he’s unsure of what to say. His eyes lock with Louis’s who’s still sitting on the carpet in the living room.

Louis doesn’t know what Harry’s searching for when he stares into the _blue blue blue_ of Louis’s eyes, but Louis nods all the same, an almost imperceptible movement accompanied by a smile somewhere between soft and fond. Harry tilts his head and smiles slightly; he looks back down at his Xavier. His eyes look a little glassy, Louis thinks, when he wraps his arms round the toddler, and Harry might just cry, the sap.

He bends down and lifts Xavier up into his arms, kissing him on the forehead and snuggling him against his chest. “Hi baby,” he breathes, and Xavier just giggles, burying his head into Harry’s shoulder.

Harry rubs a hand across Xavier’s back, resting his chin on the boy’s head and looking over to Louis.

Louis stands up, walking over to the pair and he bends down, grabbing the blanket Harry had dropped off the floor and absentmindedly folding it. He swears he really was going to say something when he opened his mouth a heartbeat later - maybe tease Harry or make a comment that sounds way too fond - but Harry reaches his free hand out, fisting it into the jumper Louis threw on that morning and pulling his body towards him.

Harry’s lips were on his before Louis could properly process what was happening, Xavier squished happily in between their chests, and Louis’s pretty sure Harry really does let a tear fall when their mouths mold together. Louis doesn’t think he minds.

Harry’s the one to pull back, hand still fisted into Louis’s jumper, and he presses their foreheads together, his other arm still holding Xavier securely. “Hi, love.” He’s grinning, eyes still a little glassy and a permanent smile etched on his face accompanied by a crater where his dimple should be.

“Hi,” Louis breathes back.

**_xx._ **

How Louis managed to get where he is right now is beyond him. 

Their whole group, all eight of them, are out on the first Friday after Zayn’s birthday - Xavier and Bear in the trusted care of Cheryl for the night - and sitting at a booth in the back of a club they had chosen to celebrate at. Louis was having a grand time, with a gin and tonic in one hand and Harry on his right, his best mates settled around the table as they celebrated Zayn. 

He was less fond however, of the bartender that was currently settled on Harry’s lap, sipping out of Harry’s Sex on the Beach and running his hands through the man’s curls, playing with the tendrils at the nape of his neck. 

Out of all the things he didn’t completely understand at the moment, Louis did know whatever was happening to the left of him had started when the bartender had flirted shamelessly with Harry as soon as they’d arrived and first ordered drinks. It wasn’t something to worry about for Louis though, not at first. Harry had politely dismissed Aaron and walked back to the round booth they were at, drink in hand. 

The same could not be said when Harry was halfway to plastered with multiple drinks in him; because sober Harry is respectful and responsible, and drunk Harry is the exact opposite - cheeky and very, _very_ flirty. Drunk Harry loves attention, Louis _knows_ that. 

He also knows he doesn’t really have a right to be so fucking _jealous_ of the man sitting on Harry’s lap, not when he and Harry are technically nothing, but he’s pissed about the situation, nonetheless, can feel his skin heating when he looks at The Pair. _The Pair_. That shouldn’t even be a fucking _thing_ , Louis’s intoxicated brain screams at him. 

But Louis is on his fourth drink by now - spurred on by the picture of someone else being caressed by Harry, albeit a drunk Harry - and given that what he’s had is 80% alcohol, it was enough for him to mostly ignore the weird feeling that had been pooling in the bottom of his stomach since Aaron arrived, invited himself to the table, and plopped himself into Harry’s lap. _Mostly_ because he’s unfortunately still painfully aware of the confused and sympathetic looks he’s getting from Liam or Zayn or Maya, or one of the other people sat at their table, every time he makes eye contact with them. 

It wasn’t helping his situation, and neither was Aaron firing off question after question to an intoxicated Harry where he was perched on the man’s lap. Louis vaguely registered the fact he was downing his drinks faster after every question, and the tipping point of slamming his glass down on the surface in front of him when Aaron asked what seemed like the hundredth question in the disgustingly seductive voice of his. 

“Are you seeing anybody?” Aaron bats his eyelashes innocently when he asks, not subtle at all, and with the roll of his eyes, Louis thinks it’s a little late for that question, what with the man having already found his home on Harry’s lap and all. 

Harry directs his posture towards Aaron more (even though it’s next to impossible to _not_ be facing someone who is sitting on you, at least a little), his eyes glazed over from the alcohol and smiles lazily, _captivatingly_ , at the man, slurring out, “Nooo.” 

And Louis knows that yes, that technically is true, is the answer to be expected, and was the answer that was inevitably going to be given, but it doesn’t stop the pang of hurt or jealousy or whatever the hell it is deep in his chest, the tinge of bitterness that he has to swallow back down around the lump in his throat. His eyes burn a little. 

Louis figures the lads must be as fed up with Harry right now as Louis is too, because immediately after Harry answers, he yelps - more of an indignant hiccup really, when the yelp is combined with the intoxicated state of Harry - rubbing his shin under the table and giving Zayn a look of delirious confusion. Zayn returns Harry with a pissed off glare, flicking his eyes to where Harry’s hand is resting on Aaron’s waist, and then a pointed look to where Louis is sitting next to Harry, or actually, where the smaller man has shifted as far away from Harry as the open space in the booth will allow. Harry doesn’t seem to understand. 

“So, you're single?” Harry shifts his attention back to Aaron easily.

Harry just smiles, tilts his head and lets a lazy dimple pop out, not confirming or denying, and Louis scoffs, taking a large gulp of his vodka and mumbling, “He has a fucking kid, douchebag,” as he slams the glass down a little harder than he probably should have. The others around him don’t seem to mind anyway; they’re all just looking at Harry likes he’s fucking stupid.

Aaron’s eyes travel to where Louis is firmly gripping his drink before smirking and looking back to Harry, running a finger over the black, sheer blouse he’s wearing teasingly. “I happen to _love_ kids.” 

Aaron, besides the fact that he sounds like a right arsehole, sounds like he’s genuinely _pleased_ to be pissing Louis off so much, and it infuriates Louis. Honestly, he has _no_ _right_.

Harry is still intoxicated as ever though so he smiles drunkenly at Aaron, lifting up the other man’s cocktail and bringing the straw to his lips, sucking obscenely. Louis squeezes his glass so hard he’s pretty sure he hears it crack and he just throws it back on the tabletop, letting the liquid slosh around and scoffing at the scene beside him. Honestly, _fuck Harry_.

Aaron swallows thickly, eyes unapologetically flicking down to Harry’s lips before leaning in to whisper something in Harry’s ear. He pulls back with a smirk, and Harry nods fervently with a blissful grin. Aaron stands up off Harry’s lap with a smirk and fucking _finally_ , Louis thinks, he’s going to _leave_. 

Except no, Louis’s wrong, of course Louis’s fucking wrong, and Harry stands up after him, intertwining their hands when Aaron reaches one out and following after the barkeep after he looks back at his mates and gives a smile like he’s just won the fucking lottery or something. It makes Louis feel sick and he swallows down the bile in his throat, shaking his head when his eyes water at the sight of Harry stumbling after another man, blatantly staring at his ass.

Louis doesn’t take him eyes off them as Harry ambles after the bartender, stopping in the middle of the floor when Aaron stops moving too, placing his hands on Harry’s shoulders. They sway to the music languidly, eyes fluttering shut and then open again, arms roaming the other’s body. Aaron’s the one to pull them closer together, their bodies almost flushed against the other, but Harry doesn’t do anything to stop it either. He wraps a hand around Aaron’s waist indulgently and smiles dopily, rocking his body to the deep bass and the strong thump of the club music that pours out from the speakers on the walls, over the dance floor, and throughout each booth.

Louis forces himself to look away, trying valiantly to ignore the feeling in his gut that he’s regrettably familiar with. It’s an ugly sensation, one that has blossomed deep within his gut and he despises every second of it. He hates how another human being could have such an effect on him. Louis thinks he might need to throw up. 

He shakes off the gentle, uncertain hand Liam sets on his shoulder which Louis assumes is supposed to be comforting but just suddenly feels like too much. When his eyes flick from the dance floor to his gin, and from his gin up to the gazes of his friends, there’s a worried expression on all their faces. All of them, not just one or two, _all_ of them. Liam looks sympathetic, Zayn looks pissed, Niall looks irritated, Gigi looks wary, Maya looks bemused, and Ally looks worried. 

They’re expressions aren’t making Louis feel any better, not in the slightest; he still thinks he might need to retch. His face feels hot at just Harry’s blatant lack of _caring_ , how he’s so easily disposable, especially here in front of all their friends, and it’s humiliating.

When Louis raises an eyebrow at his mates, silently daring them to comment, they shake the looks of their faces and awkwardly start a conversation again. It’s almost amusing the topic they come up with - why the bathroom is the best room in a house, something Niall apparently feels _very_ strongly about - but Louis takes pity on them; obviously their minds are somewhere else. 

They try to include him in the conversation too, they really do. Louis can see how hard they’re trying, but when he lacks to come up with an answer that’s any longer than two or three syllables to everything that they ask him, they give up. He settles for just absentmindedly listening, forcing his eyes to not stray to the dance floor, and swirls his now almost empty glass in his hand, focusing adamantly on the liquid sloshing inside. No matter how hard he tries though, he’s always aware that just to the left Harry is dancing with another man, pressing his body up against someone new and enjoying it like Louis knows he himself wouldn’t, even if he was drunk and desperate for someone else. He wouldn’t have enjoyed it if it wasn’t Harry. Obviously, that’s not a feeling that goes both ways. 

When he gets too antsy and his leg is bouncing uncontrollably under the table, Louis spares a glance to the group of sweaty bodies swaying and rocking together. Naturally, his eyes are drawn to Harry.

Harry and _Aaron_ as they faced each other, Harry’s arms in the air as he swivels his hips around the man. Aaron lets him have what he wants to take, his body unresponsive save for the intoxicated smirk that plays on his lips, and practically letting Harry use him to get off. He has a tight grip on Harry’s waist from what Louis can see, pressing down, and Harry worms in the hold but doesn’t resist. What struck Louis though, was that Harry looked entirely comfortable, completely in his element.

He was enjoying this. He was enjoying the attention.

They blend in perfectly to everyone else surrounding them too, because like the rest, they’re grinding on each other. Aaron’s arse moves to press to Harry’s crotch as Harry holds him close with an arm wrapped around his midsection and a hand splayed over his stomach, head thrown back like it’s all he can focus on. He looks like a dream in the sheer shirt he’s wearing, button only halfway with his tattoos on display, and Louis feels the annoyance bubbling inside him, surging through his veins before he actually understands what the feeling is.

Louis fucking hates it. He’s as good as fuming, taking sharp breaths and trying his absolute best to stop himself from shooting daggers at the pair. If looks could kill, Harry’d be dead a thousand times over. 

What’s worse than Louis being pissed though, is the pain the image brings with it. It hurts for Louis to watch, for Louis to be so helpless and useless that the only thing he’s good for is sitting in a bar booth and watching as Harry dances with someone that isn't him.

Louis rips his head away from the visual, and he regrets that almost as much as having looked over to the floor again in the first place. The table is silent, and the conversation has been effectively dropped. Louis’s guessing that’s been the case since his eyes trailed back over to Harry, knowing his friends, but what’s worse, is that each of them have a new look in their eyes, eyebrows furrowed, and they look kinda terrified of Louis’s reaction. There’s no sympathy in their eyes anymore - it’s pity, and Louis fucking despises pity. He’s gotten enough of that in his lifetime. 

He abruptly pushes himself out of his seat and mutters an, “Oh for _fuck’s_ sake,” at his friends, alcohol clouding his judgement as he pushes himself through the bodies. He has no goal as he stomps over, just wants Harry off that man and on him. It’s an irrational thought, but Louis wasn’t being rational now anyway. He reaches an arm out to the oblivious man in front of him - his eyes closed as he follows the beat of the music - gripping his shirt tightly and pulling him away from the body that’s still grinding against him.

Harry stumbles to Louis, eyes shooting open in surprise, and Louis doesn’t waist a second before sealing his lips to Harry’s firmly, squeezing his eyes shut as he melts into the feeling, revels in the rough sensation of Harry’s mouth on his, the soft, searing press of the pink skin to his own. 

Harry is only frozen for a moment before he kisses back, slotting his mouth against Louis desperately, like nothing else matters right then except that, and completely forgetting about the man standing to the side of them; bewildered and pissed, Louis’s guesses, but he doesn’t care enough to look. 

Harry grabs Louis firmly when his mind can think clearly enough, gripping Louis’s arse in his large hands and pulling Louis roughly against him, and _Christ_. Apparently, Aaron wasn’t doing it for Harry, because Harry isn't even _hard,_ not even sporting a semi after grinding his clothed cock against him for twenty minutes. Embarrassing. 

Louis takes pity on him, grinding his hips into Harry’s easily, and he swallows the man’s gasps, kissing him fervently as the taller man whimpers helplessly into his mouth. Harry’s hardening up already, just the short press of Louis’s clothed cock to his own, and Louis smirks, separating their lips with a smack and moving his mouth to Harry’s ear. 

“I’m the only one that can make you feel like this baby. Fucking remember that.” 

His voice is rough, harsh, as he breathes into Harry’s ear, letting his breath fan over the skin of Harry’s earlobe and elicit goosebumps in its wake. When Louis leans back, Harry is staring into his eyes, and his own look a little glazed over, like arousal has replaced the alcohol, like Louis has sobered him up with just his touch, with his voice. Louis doesn’t even try to hide that he’s smug about it. 

Harry gulps, nods as he stares dazedly into Louis’s own blue irises, and Louis smirks, keeping one hand fisting into the fabric of Harry’s blouse, keeping him close, and lets the other roam down past Harry’s waistline. He cups the now very prominent bulge in the front of Harry's trousers, and Harry moans obscenely, eyes fluttering closed and back arching forward into Louis’s hold. 

Louis lets Harry rut against his wrist twice before he pulls his hand away, keeping the first one that’s gripped into Harry’s shirt in place, and dragging Harry behind him. He leads them back to the table, effectively flipping off Aaron on his way back without even giving him a second of eye contact, and slides back into his seat, Harry stumbling hastily after him, like a lost puppy who’s only there to serve Louis. 

The group he left when he got up is gaping at him, having very obviously seen what happened, and even if they couldn’t hear anything over the pounding music that is still ever present, Louis guesses the visual was enough to give them at least a vague idea. 

They’re in shock, obviously enough, and Liam’s in the middle of closing his mouth, Niall trying to muster up something to say, when Louis smiles innocently, blinking inconspicuously and tipping his head just that much, “So… where were we?” 

Harry’s sitting right next to him as their mates gape at him, practically on Louis’s lap, and Louis’s unashamedly proud as Zayn finally speaks, effectively starting the conversation again. 

Harry doesn’t leave Louis’s side for the rest of the night, doesn’t really even take his eyes off him. When he does it’s to press or suck kisses into the open skin of Louis’s neck, right in front of everybody. 

\- 

Louis’s still being a little cautious with Harry following Zayn’s birthday party, given his behavior that night, even if he had been drunk and couldn’t exactly make good decisions. So naturally, when he opens the door expecting his son and Harry to be there after getting back from their weekly father/son date a couple days later, he’s a little shaken and unsettled when he sees another man standing there. A very attractive man. Like, _Zayn_ attractive. 

His easy smile turns tight lipped when he sees the brunette, someone he doesn’t recognize at _all_ , and Louis really isn't sure how to react. 

He’s tall - not _giant_ , just definitely above average - and Louis’s starting to think maybe Harry’s type has changed, because the guy from the club was too. And that wouldn’t necessarily be a problem, except. Except Louis’s _not_. He’s rather small, petite really, and just, the guys he’s seen around Harry lately… well Louis’s just feeling a little inferior right now, is all. The guy seems buff too, and maybe Louis should start working out again. Liam’s always inviting him anyway, and maybe if he just started, he’d learn to like it, maybe - Ha. Right. As if. 

Louis shakes the thoughts out of his head when Harry raises an eyebrow, probably trying to silently ask why Louis’s just standing in the doorway, watching the three of them - Xavier, Harry, and Mr. Buff-Tall-and-Handsome-Zayn-Lookalike. Right. 

So, Louis’s a little pissed. Yes, partly because that shitty feeling he had experienced for the better part of an hour or two last Friday was kicking in again, but also because he’s been waiting for Harry to return for like, half an hour, sitting on the couch anxiously and wondering why the hell Xavier isn't home yet. And now, on top of that, there’s another man - not just with Harry, but with _Xavier_ , and that, that pisses Louis off. Quite a lot, actually. 

And it’s perfectly reasonable that he doesn’t want another man around his son, especially one he doesn’t know. Harry has no right to just take Xavier around whoever the hell he wants, and especially not when Louis’s doesn’t even know it’s happening. Yeah, Louis’s pissed, maybe a little, or a lot, beyond that. 

Harry looks a little uneasy, and maybe the fact that this situation would be a little, ah… _frustrating_ for Louis is only hitting him now. Louis’s mind is too clouded to care about the fact that maybe this wasn’t intentional though, so he ignores the looks he’s getting from the brunette, and shifts his attention to Harry’s side, where Xavier’s hand is intertwined with his father’s. 

“Hey Bub, why don’t you get changed for bed. I have to talk to your father for a second. There’s pajamas on your bed, yeah?” 

Xavier smiles lazily, eyes gleaming and he already looks three sheets to the wind - understandably tired since it’s past his bedtime - and he lets go of Harry’s hand, walking into the flat and making his way back to his own bedroom easily. 

Louis snaps his head back to Harry once Xavier had rounded the corner to his room, and the soft expression he reserves for his boy is gone. He’s pissed, and he’s hurt, and he’s working himself up the longer it takes for him to get the words out. “Where the hell were you? You’re late.” The words are sharp and snappy when they get out, but he managers to keep his voice at a whisper-yell so Xavier can't hear, an accomplishment really.

“I’m sorry Lou. We tried to get here as fast as possible.” 

_We_. “That’s not good enough Harry,” Louis spits, glaring at the man in front of him, waiting for something better than that. Surely Harry has a better reason for this, and Louis doesn’t just mean being late, but he’s not going to admit he means the unfairly attractive man standing to Harry’s left. 

Before Harry can open his mouth to respond though, the man beside him is stepping up, and Louis kind of forgot that he was there to be honest. Louis doesn’t take his focus off Harry. “Hey mate, I’m sorry. It’s my fault we’re late, ran into some traffic. It’s alright dude, seriously.” 

The man’s holding a hand up in front of Louis’s chest, as if that’s going to calm him down, and Louis whips his neck around towards the man; if Louis was glaring before, he’s shooting daggers now. 

Said man takes the hint, raises his hand in surrender, and takes a step back. “Ooooo-kay, I’m just gonna go wait in the car. See you H.” He turns around without anything else, making his way back to the parking lot, and Harry’s glaring at him now. 

“What the hell Louis. What was that for?” 

Louis ignores him. “Who’s that guy?” 

Harry’s mouth fishes. “He’s just a friend.” 

“Right,” Louis scoffs; he thinks it would hurt less if Harry just told the truth. He’s never been an exceptionally good liar and now is not any different. “Don’t be late again. You could at least have the decency to text.” 

He’s pretty sure Harry rolls his eyes a little. “Whatever Louis. I’m sorry, I forgot. I will next time, just calm down for fucks sake, you don’t have to be an arse.” 

Louis’s eyes harden and he shrinks in a bit on himself, arms crossed over his chest. He doesn’t respond yet, just glares at Harry for two heartbeats before he adds, “And I don’t want your ‘ _friend’_ around Xavier. You never discussed it with me, and I don’t want another man around him, _got it_?” His voice is harsh, bitter, and _good_ , Louis thinks, that’s what he wants. Harry doesn’t deserve to understand how Louis feels right now. 

Harry does, of course he does. He can see right through Louis too easily and his features soften when he realizes, shoulders no longer taut and defensive. “Louis--” 

“Forget it, Harry,” Louis quips quickly, cutting Harry off effectively. He in no way wants to have this conversation. He shakes his head, refusing eye contact, and steps back through the threshold, raising his arm up to grip the door and shut it. He wants to hide, wants to keep Harry from understanding why Louis is so hurt, why he hates this. 

He’s so close to being through the door, so close to closing it behind him, but he feels a hand on his elbow, softly pulling him back. “Louis - no. Wait.” 

Louis takes a sharp breath, stopping in his tracks and turning his head over his shoulder, just enough to see Harry’s facial expression, to look him in the eyes. 

“Harry, let me go,” Louis rebuts, voice shaky and eyes glassy as he tries to get out of Harry’s hold. 

Harry isn't having it. “Lou, no. C’mere.” 

Louis tries to jerk his arm away again, but fuck Harry for being so much damn stronger than Louis, because it still doesn’t work. Harry’s grip doesn’t even falter. He turns his neck back around, shaking his head towards the ground because looking at Harry again is too hard. “Harry, _please_. Just forget it.” 

Harry exhales, grip still on Louis’s elbow, and he turns him around using his grip as leverage, carefully pulling Louis towards him back to the other side of the entrance. Louis goes, follows Harry’s grip so that he exits the threshold of the flat again, and Harry pushes him up against the brick of the wall softly, holding him in between his arms. “ _Louis_.” His voice is so soft, so gentle, like Louis is this precious thing that might break if he talks to loud. 

Louis still refuses to make eye contact. 

“Lou, _look_ at me.” 

Louis’s stubborn for a moment, Harry patiently giving him the time to make up his decision, and Louis finally tilts his head up from where it was facing the pavement of the ground, and yeah, his eyes are definitely glassy now. 

Harry softens when he meets Louis’s gaze. “Hey, he’s only my friend, I promise Lou. Nothing else.” 

Louis refuses to believe Harry so easily, shakes his head and casts his focus on Harry’s clothed chest instead. 

Harry’s having none of it. He steps closer to Louis so their bodies are almost flush together. “Hey,” he starts softy, “How many times do I have to tell you Lou? I only want you baby; I thought I’ve made that clear. It’s only you love.” 

Louis looks up, and Harry’s heart breaks a little. There’s a tear that has slipped down his cheek, his eyes not being able to hold it back long enough. Harry raises his hand, softly wiping away the tear with the pad of his thumb, and he holds Louis’s jaw gently, making eye contact one more time before he leans down, pressing his lips to Louis’. 

Louis relaxes, sighs into the kiss as Harry’s mouth captures his own, and it’s just so delicate, so intimate. It’s not meant to be anything more than a promise, a chaste peck of their searing lips, and Harry pulls back slightly, pressing a kiss to Louis’s forehead, before wrapping his long arms around the smaller man, holding him tightly against his chest. 

“Only you Lou.” 

Louis is pliant in Harry’s grip, lets himself be held and handled, and he burrows his head into Harry’s neck, breathing softly and letting his eyelids slip shut as Harry uses a hand to rub his back in circles. 

They only break apart when they hear the pitter patter of small feet coming from the open door to their left, both turning towards the entrance and looking at a now pajama clad toddler. “All ready, Daddy,” the toddler beams softly, chin tilted up to his fathers like it’s his greatest accomplishment that he’s gotten ready by himself for the first time. Maybe it is. 

Louis moves from Harry’s side sluggishly, Harry’s large hands dropping off his back where it had still been rubbing random shapes, and he smiles down at his boy, bending down to place a kiss on his forehead. “Okay baby.” 

He grabs Xavier’s hand before turning back to face Harry, and Harry nods, smiling softly at the pair. Louis smiles back, just looks at Harry like their having a silent conversation with their eyes, and maybe they are. Harry leans in quickly, pressing a chaste, light kiss to Louis’s forehead and leans back, smiling. _Only you_ , it means. 

The taller man’s gaze shifts to the four-year-old, and the toddler beams, reaching his hands up to his father and exclaiming, “Bye Papa!” excitedly. Harry’s expression melts so easily, and he squats down, kissing his other boy on the forehead too and smiling effortlessly. “Bye love.” 

Xavier beams as he watches Harry stand back up, and Louis can't believe the boy still has energy this late; he’s most definitely going to be cranky tomorrow, but Louis can't find it in him to care. 

  
Harry lets his gaze linger one more time on the two standing in the doorway of their flat before he turns around, walking back to the parking with a wide grin on his face. 

Louis hoists Xavier off the ground once Harry has disappeared, walks into the flat with his son on his hip, and kisses the boy’s forehead as he kicks the door shut behind them. “Time for bed love.” 

**_xxi._ **

The first thing Louis felt when he woke up was weird, like something was off, but he just couldn’t quite place his finger on it. After lying in bed during the couple minutes before his alarm would ultimately go off too damn early sometime before 6 AM on the Tuesday morning it was and thinking about just what exactly felt _wrong_ during those few minutes, he let it go, shrugged it off and started his day.

He hummed the tune to a song he couldn’t remember as he got himself dressed, throwing his dirty clothes and whatever else was splayed over his bedroom floor into the hamper, and bounced down the hallway, opening the door to Xavier’s bedroom.

The boy was rolling around in the bed, one leg thrown over the covers and the other under - something Louis does as well when he gets too hot during the night but wants the blanket there to make him feel secure - , babbling quietly to himself as he stared at the ceiling.

His hazy green eyes told Louis the toddler had just woken up when Louis bent over the edge of the bed to smile down at his boy, and the boy beamed softly back, grinning at the sight of his father. “Daddy!”  
  


Louis’s eyes crinkled as he bent down, pressing a kiss to the boy’s hairline and swooping him up in his arms. “Morning love.”

He got Xavier dressed quickly, settling on a pair of light grey joggers to fit over his tiny legs and an olive-green zip up hoodie to go over his head. They bounded their way into the kitchen, Xavier on Louis’s hip as he quickly made them eggs in the pan over the stove, and Louis’s brain had a momentary lapse when he pulled his phone out of his pocket as Xavier was munching down on the cooked eggs a couple minutes later. He had grabbed the phone out to a lit-up screen, showing several texts from his mates and sisters, the most recent one from Lottie which just said, ‘love you’ and nothing else.

The weird feeling he got in his chest that morning when he had woken up, the one that he had only spared a couple minutes of time to think about in his warm bed, was back, and the urge to figure out the reason for it only grew stronger at his sister’s text. It was weird enough for her to text him out of the blue without something to really discuss, but the fact that it was a quick, short phrase of affection, puzzled him more. And it’s not like his siblings weren't close - they most definitely were - but they almost always showed their affection by mocking one another, not short and sweet texts at 6:30 in the morning.

Louis decided not to dwell on it, tapping out a quick ‘love you too Lots’ before slipping his phone away, smiling at his boy when the toddler looked up to him with a mouthful of eggs, and continuing their meal before school.

-

He kept getting weird looks all day. From Niall, and Liam, and Zayn, and even the girls. He had just figured he had something on his face from lunch, but that theory was proved wrong when he had taken a piss break while his kids were at recess and his face had been clean of any of the burrito he had eaten, complimentary of the chefs in the school cafeteria. So Louis didn’t quite understand why all of his mates seemed so wary today, stepping around him like he was breakable or something. And Louis hated it, but he thought maybe he was just imagining it, or maybe it was national Be Awkward and Weird Around Louis But Don’t Tell Him Day, so he let it go, finishing the afternoon lessons with his students after lunch before sending them home with their parents for the day.

Louis was quick to tidy up his classroom as soon as every kid had been picked up, clicking off the lights when he was finished and swiftly making his way down to the preschool hallways to pick up his son.

Harry was already there when Louis got to the doorway of Niall’s room, and they were on the floor playing, Xavier giggling at something Harry had done or said, and Niall in his chair as he watched with a smile.

“Someone forgot to mention we were having a playdate after school,” Louis teased as he walked into the room, smiling as he say his boy tilt his head up to beam at him.

“Hi Daddy!” The boy grinned, staying put where he was, seeming content to sit in Harry’s lap.

Harry turned his head from Xavier to Louis, and his face lit up too, smiling softly. “Hey Lou.”

Louis smiled just as softly back, watching Harry for a couple heartbeats before he turned back to his boy, watching as he happily played with some doll Niall kept in his classroom. “You ready to go babe?”

He had meant it for the toddler, but Louis couldn’t contain his smile, the way his lips tugged upward when Harry turned his head to face his again, smiling and mouth opening - Louis presumes to give an answer of yes of some sort - before he closed it, cheeks flushing when Xavier spoke up, bouncing in Harry’s lap and waving his arms around. “Yeah Daddy! Can Papa come too?”

Louis smiled softly at his boy, eyes flicking to see if Harry’s cheeks had gotten any less red - they hadn’t - and smiling, looking back to his boy. “Yeah love, that’s fine. He can come too.”

Xavier jumped up, forgetting about the doll that had previously been in his hands at the center of his attention, and giving a shout of victory, immediately reaching his hands out and trying to help Harry to his feet.

-

They had decided on playing board games all night, much to the pleasure of Xavier, who had begged his fathers as soon as the idea was brought up, and they played a game of Monopoly until seven, when Xavier’s head kept lolling over as his eye lids fluttered shut, only to snap back open again, intent on finishing what he started. Louis wasn’t having it though, and he easily stood up from where they were sprawled on the carpet of the living room floor around the board, picking the exhausted Xavier up into his arms and ignoring the boy’s half-hearted protests to continue.

He placed the boy on his hip, kissing his forehead and disagreeing softly. “No love. It’s time for bed. We can finish tomorrow yeah?”

That’s all the reassurance the toddler needed, and he nodded sleepily, a yawn cutting off his agreeance and laying his head on his father’s shoulder. “’Kay Daddy.”

Louis rested his cheek against his boy’s head, and he maneuvered them around the couch, making his way to the bathroom to brush the boy’s teeth quickly; a shower could wait until tomorrow night.

Xavier was dressed in soft pajamas under ten minutes later, and Louis pulled the covers up to the boy’s chin after he had set him softly in his bed, wrapping the boy up and tucking him in. “Go to sleep now, yeah love?”

The toddler nodded, and he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes but to no avail, eyelashes fluttering up to Louis sleepily. “Where’s Papa?”

Louis leaned in and kissed his boy’s forehead before he turned around, eyes catching on Harry who was stood in the doorway. “He’s here love. Want him to kiss you goodnight?”

The toddler nodded, a lazy smile on his face at the idea as he snuggled further into the blankets, and Louis scooted over so Harry could squat down beside him on the edge of the bed, the man lifting a hand and running it through the brown curls that stuck out like a halo from Xavier’s head over the pillow.

“Night baby, sleep well Bub.” Harry leaned in, pressing a kiss to almost the same spot as Louis, and ruffled the boy’s curls before he stood up.

They both whispered a quiet “I love you,” to the boy who was already out, eyes closed and snoring ever so softly, before they stood up, walking out of the room and closing the door softly behind him.

“Watch something?”

Harry nodded at Louis’s offer, and he walked back out to the living room, disappearing around the corner while Louis quickly made his way into his own bedroom, slipping into a pair of sweats and an old hoodie, before walking back out to meet Harry.

The man was putting away the board game when Louis appeared back from his bedroom, and Louis smiled at how Harry was carefully moving everything over to the table so that the game could be continued tomorrow, as promised, and walked over to help.

When the extra pieces were back in the box and the board was arranged neatly on the table, they walked around the couch, plopping down on the sofa cushions as Harry reached for the remote on the side table, flicking the television on. Harry surfed through a couple channels before deciding on opening Netflix, logging into Louis’s account and flicking through the options as Louis watched from his side, cuddled into the fluffy cushions of the couch. Harry kept going back and forth between two separate movies, before flicking his gaze over to Louis, raising an eyebrow. “Which one?”

Louis opened his mouth to give an answer right when his phone went off in his pocket. He gave Harry an apologetic smile before he slipped it out, checking the caller ID and answering.

“Hey Payno,” he chirped, watching as Harry flicked his eyes back to the screen to try to decide while Louis chatted with his mate.

Liam hesitated, _“…Hey Tommo, er, how are you doing_?”

Louis furrowed his eyebrows in slight amusement. “Good…? We saw each other today, why are you calling Li?”

He heard Liam sigh on the other end of the line, “ _Lou? A-are you being serious? Did you forget what today is?”_

Louis furrows his eyebrows, “Um, it’s Tuesday?... What about it mate? You’re being weird.” Harry flicked his eyes back over and gave Louis a thoughtful look while his hands still pressed on the buttons of the remote, obviously curious about whatever conversation Louis and Liam were having.

Louis could hear Liam shake his head on the other line, the man sighing out and pausing before answering hesitantly, voice even softer then when Louis had picked up. “ _Mate--”_ he started, a little unnerved, “ _It’s - I, It’s January 21 st Lou_.”

Louis stopped breathing.

How could he have - he couldn’t, he couldn’t have forgotten. He just, no, it’s not. That’s not _possible_. It’s _not_. “ _Lou? Are you still there_?”

Louis didn’t answer Liam. The phone slid out of his grasp, catching Harry’s attention, and falling to the carpet with a soft thud.

Louis was frozen, small gasps of air coming in and out of his mouth frantically. It’s just not _possible_ , he kept telling himself, repeating it like a mantra in his head. There’s absolutely no fucking way he would have forgotten today.

Except, except… _except-except-except_ , he _did_. Louis managed to forget one of the most memorable and fucking miserable days of his life. And he doesn’t know _how_. He feels like an idiot. He _knew_ there was something off this morning; he woke up and he _knew_. He should have thought about it harder, should have just realized. And why had it been so fucking hard to realize? How did he - how _could_ he have possibly forgotten. He’s a fucking arsehole.

He’s been so happily distracted lately that he managed to completely block this day out, trick his mind into thinking it wasn’t happening and it wasn’t coming up. How, how could he not _care_ enough for that? He’s fucking horrible, and he _hates_ himself, hates himself for managing to forget or block out or whatever the fuck happened what today was. He’s fucking pissed at himself, because even his _friends_ remembered, his sisters. He’d managed to be insensitive about it all day without even knowing and it _hurts_ that he did. It aches in his chest that he could be such a fucking terrible person, that he could possibly have been so self-centered that he forgot, even when everyone else in his life remembered; everyone else had been going through the day with the weight on their shoulders and he _hadn’t_.

Louis couldn’t quite breathe. It’s like someone had been sitting on his chest, and suddenly his clothes felt like they were suffocating him. He’s shaking, his hands are shaking as they claw at the thick hoodie that is still covering his chest and he needs it _off_. He needs it _offoffoff._

He yanks at the neck, but it doesn’t move, and he only realizes he's crying, wailing, when he chokes on a sob, the sound cutting through his chest and Harry is staring at him with alarm, has no idea what’s going on. How did everything escalate so quickly? His voice sounds far away. “Lou? Lou are you okay? What’s wrong? What - ?”

Louis can't answer him, he just keeps jerking at the clothing that’s covering him and sobbing when the fabric wraps tightly around his fingers, but it still won’t come off. “I need--” he chokes out, “I need - off. _Off_.”

Harry frantically reaches for the clothing that’s covering him, and Louis moves his hands out of the way, his chest heaving violently as Harry manages to slip the jumper over his head and throw it on the ground somewhere. “Louis? What’s going on? I need you to answer me, I can't help.”

Louis isn’t making sense. He doesn’t know how to respond to the man that is currently freaking out in front of him, and his reaction isn't helping Louis. “I - I can't breathe, I - can't. I--”

The clothing on his chest is gone and it’s just his naked torso now, but there’s not enough _air_. It’s like he’s drowning and he’s past his limit, breaking the surface of the water to finally get the oxygen his burning lungs need, but then he’s pushed right back under; only enough air to keep living through the searing pain in his chest and continuing the torture that he doesn’t know how to explain.

He feels like he’s dying, like he’s so close to just stopping breathing, but not quite there. His mind is racing, trying to find a coherent thought, but the only thing his nerve endings can latch on to is more _pain_ , like he’s being ripped apart from the inside, grasping for something he can't find to make it go away.

Harry’s fading away and Louis doesn’t know how to communicate with him; like he’s experiencing a sensory overload, and everything is heightened, but he can't focus on any one thing at the same time.

“Har - I can't - it hurts,” he gasps out and it rumbles through his chest, barely reaching the surface and out of his mouth in a last-ditch attempt to communicate with Harry.

When he opens his eyes again - he doesn’t remember squeezing them shut - Harry is there, close enough to show Louis he’s trying to help, but not too close to overwhelm Louis. His words are becoming clearer, less foggy, and Louis can just barely make them out as they run through his brain, mixing with all the thoughts of how much his body hurts, throbs, is searing with a lack of oxygen.

“Lou,

_Louis_ -

I need you to listen to me Lou. Breathe for me sweetheart. Can you breathe for me?”

Louis was, he was trying.

He lifted his chin, making desperate eye contact with Harry, alarming Harry further with how disheveled and out of it he looked. There were tear tracks on his cheeks, some still slipping out, and his eyes were rimmed red already, after only the few minutes he had been letting out the wretched sobs. He was still gasping for breath, choking every time he tried to calm himself, his chest and stomach hollowing with each desperate gulp of air.

“I can’t, Harry, I--” Louis’s breaths were coming in frantic gasps again, “How could I forget?” He let out a choked back sob.

Harry hurriedly grabbed Louis’s hands, holding on tight as he pressed his left to his own chest, maintaining eye contact with Louis. “I need you to breathe with me Lou. Focus on my chest, my breathing. In through your nose, out through your mouth. _There you go_. Keep going.”

Louis did, his breaths started to slow, not as desperate as they were before, and it was like finally being allowed to thoroughly break the surface of whatever layer of water had been pulling him down, drowning him, keeping him from getting desperate oxygen.

Harry kept Louis’s hand on his chest as their shoulders rose in sync, letting oxygen flow into Louis’s burning lungs and throughout his body.

When Louis had calmed down, breathing steadily like Harry had told him, Harry let his hand drop from his chest, rubbing Louis’s thigh soothingly and maintaining some space between them in case Louis started to feel claustrophobic again. “Lou? Can you tell me what happened baby? What got you so worked up?”

Harry could see as soon as Louis’s shoulders started to rise and fall unevenly, a new wave of panic shooting through him at the thought, of what started his attack. He immediately took his hands off Louis, wanting to keep him from feeling suffocated or held down, and grabbed his eye contact instead. “Wait, breathe Louis. Breathe, it’s okay. …Good, in and out, just like me. It’s alright. You’re safe Louis. We’re in your living room on the couch okay? Focus on your surroundings, can you describe them to me Lou?”

Louis took a shaky breath, calming himself again and slowly looking around. “T-there’s a plant in the corner… a-and my shirt - my sweatshirt’s on the ground. It’s red.”

Harry nodded, rubbing his hand again on Louis’s knee where he was kneeling in front of the couch in front of the smaller man. “Good. Good job, Lou. You’re okay. Can you talk to me now? Don’t get worked up love, just take slow breaths and speak to me sweetheart. What happened on the phone with Li?”

Louis nodded, focusing on the feeling of the pads of Harry’s fingers to ground him. He took a deep breath. “It-it’s, It’s her anniversary.”

Harry’s eyebrows creased, “Who’s Lou?”

Louis took another shaky breath, voice breaking. “Mum’s, Haz. It-it’s her, she - she’s been gone for four _years_.”

It felt like a lot to say out loud, to explain everything he just felt so simply, and Harry understands immediately. “Oh Lou.” He leans in, presses a firm kiss to Louis’s forehead as the man keeps taking deliberate breaths, and he stays there for a moment, lingering on Louis’s skin. “I’m so sorry love,” he whispers so softly as he pulls back, and Louis just nods, eyes flickering to the ground and a tear slipping down his face.

Harry leans back in, just to hold Louis this time, and it’s awkward with the way they're situated - Louis on the couch in just a pair of joggers and Harry fully clothed, kneeling on the floor - but it’s exactly what Louis needs, needs to feel Harry surrounding him.

Louis’s isn't sure how long they sit there, holding each other, but eventually Harry pulls back, watching as Louis opens his eyes again and focuses on Harry. “Let’s run you a bath yeah? Clean you up?”

Louis just nods at Harry’s offer and he lets him lace their fingers together, gently pulling him up from the couch and letting the smaller man rest a majority of his body weight on him. They walk together into the bathroom, the bright white tiles contrasting to just how exhausted and drained Louis feels from his panic attack, and Harry lets Louis undress, slip the remaining joggers and underwear down his legs until he’s left naked and shivering.

Harry flicks on the taps and pours some of the bubble bath Louis keeps for himself into the water, swirling it around to mix it in while the plugged tub fills up.

Harry stood up from where he was bent over the side of the tub, stepping closer to Louis and rubbing up and down his sides to warm him up while they waited for the water to fill silently, save for the white noise of the running liquid as it hit the plaster of the tub.

When the tub had been three quarters of the way full, Harry turned off the tap, testing the water to make sure it was warm enough, before reaching out for Louis again, holding his hand firmly but gently as he balanced the man so he could step over the side into the tub.

The water was hot as Louis sunk down into it, but the heat was a drastic difference to the searing pain he had been experiencing in his body less than half an hour ago, and the change was welcome, the warm water seeping into Louis’s skin and relaxing him.

He shut his eyes and let his body slide against the back of the tub until he was nearly submerged, only his head poking out so that he could breathe, his body hidden by the layer of bubbles that coated the top of the water.

Harry made no move to get in. He knelt by the side, swirling his fingers through the warm water closest to him as Louis kept his eyes closed, letting himself relax for a spare moment. Harry lifted his hands, dripping the water carefully over Louis’s scalp, wetting his messy quiff and massaging Louis’s scalp as he went.

Louis’s eyes fluttered at the feeling and he felt utterly calm in the moment, the only sound being the splashing of the waves in the tub and the sound of Harry’s long fingers scratching at Louis’s scalp. Louis frowned when Harry removed his hand and opened his eyes, watching as the man smiled softly down at him.

“Can I wash your hair, baby?”

“Please,” was Louis’s response, his voice soft and low as Harry reached across the tub for the shampoo, snapping open the cap and squeezing some into his hand. His hands met Louis’s scalp once he had rubbed the soap together in his hands, and Louis closed his eyes, tipping his head back to keep the suds out of his eyes.

Harry worked the shampoo through Louis’s hair carefully, making sure to get every spot. When his hair was covered, Harry stood up to reach for the shower head, pulling it off its hook and switching the current flow through the holes on it.

He knelt down again, careful not to let the spray of water hit Louis’s face, and pointed it towards the back of Louis’s head, his other hand providing a barrier to keep the water from going into his eyes.

When the soap was washed off of Louis’s head and his hair was clean, Harry put the shower head back, running a hand through Louis’s hair. “Can you stand up love? So I can wash you?”

Louis just nodded, gently standing to his full height and balancing his worn body. Harry kept a supportive hand on Louis’s hip to keep him upright, and he picked up the previous bottle of bubble bath, pouring some on his fingers. He ran it up and down Louis’s arms and legs, scrubbing and cleaning his wet skin and covering Louis’s body is suds of lavender. He cleaned everywhere, and there was no intent when Harry’s hands got to Louis’s private, cleaning him thoroughly without any sexual or sensual motives. He lifted the shower head back off its holder when he was done, maneuvering it around to spray off Louis’s body, making sure to get every crevice and curve.

Louis let himself be cleaned, closing his eyes as Harry worked and basking in the calm feeling.

When Harry was done, he placed the shower head back on its rack, turning it off before he turned back to Louis. “You ready to get out love?”

Louis just nodded, and Harry grabbed a towel from the wall-mounted rack, unfolding it and holding it open for Louis. Louis raised himself out of the water, pulling the plug as he did so and stepped out onto the navy bathmat, letting Harry loop the warm towel around his shoulders, securing it quickly. He reached for another and towel dried Louis’s hair, hanging it back up to dry before holding Louis’s hand as he led him into the bedroom.

Louis sat on the edge of the bed, wrapped up in a towel as Harry picked out a new pair of joggers and boxers from the closest, bringing them over and letting Louis slip into them. Harry pulled his work shirt and jeans off his body, lying them on the wood floor by the bedframe, and pulled the covers back, letting a now dressed Louis slip under them.

Harry silently shuffled into the bed after him, letting Louis situate himself before he scooted up behind him, pressing his wide chest to the small of Louis’s back, wrapping a tight arm around Louis’s waist to keep him close; comfort him.

They layed in the bed silently, Harry with his nose to the nape of Louis’s neck, breathing in his fresh scent, and Louis cuddled up against him, eyes wide open no matter how utterly exhausted and spent he felt, and mind racing.

“How could I forget?”

His voice was quiet, so soft Harry could barely hear, and he sounded so vulnerable, voice scratchy like he was trying to hold back another wave of tears. Harry tightened his hold around the smaller man’s waist, pressing himself to him as a security blanket.

Harry didn’t answer at first; he didn’t know how. Whatever he said would be taken a certain way to Louis, and it would either upset him or give him peace. Harry wanted the latter.

“I think - I think it’s okay.”

It wasn’t a direct answer to Louis’s question, but he wasn’t interrupted, so Harry took it as a cue to keep going.

“I think - she knows you think about her Lou. She knows you care, and that’s not what today is about. Today was about losing her, and she knows that you struggle with that. I don’t think she is expecting you to mourn all day for her, to live a hellish day because you miss her so much. She knows you do Lou, today just meant that you’re closer to finding a peace with it, like you understand that she’s gone, but that doesn’t mean you’re forgetting her Lou. She knows you could never do that.”

Louis was silent. Harry worried he might have said the wrong thing, upset Louis more, and he stayed still, waiting for some kind of reaction - big or small.

Louis was silent as he shuffled, turning around onto his back and then back onto his opposite shoulder, facing Harry now.

His eyes were rimmed red and there were dried tear tracks from where he had silently been crying. Harry freaked out, trying to read Louis and decide how to apologize, soften the blow that he hadn’t meant to give. But.

Louis let his eyelashes flutter closed and back open, his lips tugging upwards just barely, enough to hint of a smile there. “Thank you.”

His voice was soft and scratchy, pained almost, but he sounded thankful, grateful. Louis ducked his head, resting it in the crook of Harry’s neck, and sighing contentedly, clinging to Harry, and Harry knew it was okay.

He dipped his chin, kissing Louis’s forehead softly. “Of course, love.”

**_xxii._ **

Louis wakes up a couple days later after a night of movies and popcorn with the boys with his ass to Harry, bum pressing back on Harry’s morning wood, and. And the thing is, Louis is _hard_.

Like really fucking horny to a point that really isn't acceptable because it’s only been, what? A couple of weeks since him and Harry exchanged sloppy hand jobs one night before bed? He shouldn’t feel like he has the sex drive of a teenager again.

But nevertheless, Louis’s hard, and he’s horny, and Harry is just kind of _right there_.

So Louis does the most logical thing he can think of.

He, ever-so-subtly, starts rocking his ass back on Harry who is clad in only boxers, letting himself swim in the feeling of just a body up against him.

And to Louis’s - quite literal - great pleasure, he can already feel Harry starting to harden up to full length behind him, can feel the man squeeze his arm around where it’s wrapped around Louis’s waist in his sleep protectively, pulling him closer and giving Louis that much more to work with. It’s pitiful really, that Louis can get off on something so miniscule.

His dick doesn’t seem to care though.

He controls his moans as best he can, biting his lip so that anything that’s trying to escape only makes its way through as a whimper, keeping as silent as possible so he doesn’t wake Harry and end whatever fantasy he’s living in.

Louis can feel Harry in his boxers, can feel his length up against his thigh, how hard he is, and he thinks maybe Harry is having a good dream of his own, what with the way he’s slightly rutting up against Louis too; how his fully hard dick teases Louis’s ass but only enough to drive Louis mad that he can't actually have Harry _in_ him right now, has to settle for rutting back against him.

And against his better judgement - not that he’s using great discernment right now anyway - Louis lets his hand slip down to the elastic band of his boxers, just palming himself softly over the top to give him some kind of relief from how much he just _wants_. It’s helping, but only just, and the biggest difference between now and before is that Louis is even harder, straining against the fabric where it’s tented from Louis’s arousal.

He whines, throwing his head back against the pillow as he tries to relieve himself, getting it from both behind and the front and it’s still not enough. He needs more, _something_ ; He slips his hand into his pants.

He’s lost in the way it feels immediately. The way his fingers feel along his slit, teasing himself just like Harry would and gathering the precum to slide it along his length to use as a lubricant. He finally lets his hands wander, wrapping loose fingers around his prick and letting himself be teased like he loves; like what riles him up the best, to be so close and on edge, but just not allowed.

He tightens his grip after a couple of soft strokes, twisting his hand slightly to wrap around himself and simulate that he’s actually fucking something, getting pleasure from anything other than his hand. The thought makes him whine pitifully, only making him work harder for his pleasure and rutting back against Harry, switching it with bucking forward into his tight fist.

He’s on the edge with every movement, slowing down just enough to not push himself over while he tries to decide if he wants to finish this as quickly as possible or hold it out, prolong his pleasure; keep the so very pleasant tingly feeling.

Pleasure wins, of course, when Harry shifts slightly behind him, not so much that Louis thinks he’s awake, but so that he’s pressing more firmly to Louis’s ass, and if they were both naked and both awake, working towards their release right now, Louis’s pretty sure Harry could just slip right in him. The thought makes him whimper, aggravated at what he can't have.

His hips speed up, fucking into his hand pleasurably and then grinding back on Harry, feeling the thickness of him that he’s gotten to experience first-hand hundreds of times. He brings himself to the edge again and again, ready to just spill over, and _finally_ , when he feels it in his stomach - like he’s at the height of his arousal and he knows releasing now is going to give him the strongest orgasm - he pumps himself faster, lets himself be completely overtaken by the feeling of relief and satisfaction. He’s so close to coming, so close to be given what he’s been chasing for the last twenty minutes. 

A deep, almost amused, but definitely aroused, voice stops him.

“You want me to help with that or are you just gonna keep going at it while you think I’m asleep?”

Louis’s hand stills abruptly, a squeaky gasp escaping his mouth from both the surprise of Harry’s voice coupled with the surprise of being caught. He should be embarrassed probably; should feel guilty that he’s been getting himself off in bed next to another man; should probably think about the fact that Harry has most likely been up since he started, and he’s just been going at it like a desperate teenager.

His dick doesn’t soften at the prospect of being caught doing something he knows he shouldn’t though. In fact, if anything, it perks up more, something Louis didn’t think was quite possible given the state he’s in, and yeah, okay, that’s probably something for him to look into later. Not right now though.

When Louis doesn’t answer, just kinda lays there frozen and in shock and needy overall, Harry speaks up again. “Hmm? Didn’t get an answer love.”

His voice is deep and sultry, the words coming off his tongue languidly, and Louis preens at the term of endearment, fluttering his eyes shut because everything’s just so _much_ now, and lets out a strangled whimper-moan-answer thing. Eloquent. “ _Please_ ,” he manages out, pushing his bum back on Harry to show him what he means, as if it isn't already painfully obvious to both of them.

“What’s that?” Harry questions again, like he’s entertained by the idea of Louis’s pain, the smirk plenty evident in his low voice.

Louis just whines and lets out a frustrated, “ _Harryyy_.”

Harry shifts his hips just slightly, enough to tease Louis, and the smaller one has half a mind to slap Harry where he lays, but he figures that’s not going to do anything to solve his problem any sooner than he’d like. And he’d have _liked_ five minutes ago, so. He whines again, something between that of a disgruntled kitten, what with the way the line between his eyebrows crease adorably, and a dog that has just gone into heat, just so desperate, and without an ounce of humiliation to care for. “Alright, alright love. I got you, ‘s alright baby,” Harry is quick to promise, shifting closer to Louis so that he’s completely flush to Louis’s back, pressed to him wholly.

Or more accurately, his dick is pressing to him wholly. Louis is unabashedly proud of what he’s accomplished, if he’s honest.

Harry moves his arm from where it was wrapped around Louis’s waist, lifting his hand to Louis’s boxers and not waiting a second before pulling them down and off his body like it’s nothing, wrapping a hand around Louis’s throbbing erection and squeezing, not teasing like he normally would. Louis thanks God that Harry understands how desperate he is right now.

He jacks Louis off a couple times, twisting his grip around Louis’s length like he knows he loves, Louis letting out soft moans to show his appreciation, and spreading the precum around to slicken the slide of his hand. Louis’s so ready to let go now with the feeling of Harry encompassing him, his hand wrapped around his cock and his own prick up against Louis’s ass. It’s all too much and it’s exactly what Louis needs to finish and he’s finally worked up enough again to let go when Harry speaks up.

“Lift your leg up Lou.”

Louis whines, confused why he needs to move when he’s just _so_ _close_ , but he listens anyway. Anything to get his release.

“Gonna try something yeah?”

Louis nods dumbly, the only thing he can focus on being the pooling in his stomach and the arousal he needs to finally let go off, and he stays still as Harry moves around, pulling his own boxers down his thighs and throwing them off the bed.

He shifts again, slipping closer to Louis, and then Louis feels it, warm and prominent between his legs. He moans at the sensation and instantly clenches his thighs tightly together. “Gonna fuck your thighs yeah? Wrap one ankle around the other nice and tight.”

Louis does, only increasing the pleasure for Harry of Louis’s thighs wrapped around his dick where he slid into him. He slowly starts to rock into Louis using his own precum as lube, and both their heads loll back at the feeling, lips parted in ecstasy and breathy moans coming from their mouths.

Harry breathes into his ear, voice deep and thick with arousal. “Feel so good baby. Taking my cock so well and it’s not even in you, practically gagging for it anyway,” and it’s all Louis can do to whine.

The feeling of Harry between his thighs - not _in_ him but close enough, especially every time he rocks back and forth and the head of his cock catches on Louis’s rim - is amazing. It’s new, a feeling Louis isn't accustomed to, but it’s mind-blowing all the same. The idea of Harry needing to use Louis’s body to get himself off, but not having the patience to wait and open him up to properly fuck him does wonders to Louis’s brain and he just lays there and takes it, lets Harry moan into his shoulders and rock Louis’s body with his own.

Harry lets out a loud moan when he realizes Louis is rocking back against him too, wrapping a hand around Louis’s waist to gain leverage and letting out little _uh, uh, uh’s_ as he keeps going, chasing his own release.

“Just like that Lou - fuck baby. Feel so good around me. Fuck.”

“Nggnhh,” Louis groans back, Harry rocking harder into Louis and reveling in the feeling of his naked body pressing to Louis, the way he can feel how hot Louis’s skin is against him, sweat forming on their bodies from the heat.

They’re both painstakingly close to coming, standing at the edge and needing the smallest push over it. Louis tightens his thighs around Harry’s cock while Harry moves his hand from Louis’s waist to his hard prick, wrapping a frantic hand around it and tugging him off mercilessly, twisting down so his mouth is right next to Louis’s ear.

“Let go love. Know you need to come, c’mon baby. Feel so good like this, letting me do what I want with you. Feels amazing love – _fuck_ \- come Lou.”

That’s all it takes, Harry’s deep, arousal laced voice in his ear whispering how good Louis is to him, and Louis cries out, body tensing and shuttering with his orgasm and shoulders shaking with it as he goes through his high, muttering out illogical gasps of _harryharryharry_ and _fuckfuckfuck_. Harry continues working Louis through it with his hand, thrusting desperately for his own release, and when Louis’s thighs tighten from his orgasm, Harry comes too, streaking Louis’s bare thighs with white ropes of warm come and fucking into him still as they ride it out with a strangled cry of, “ _Fff-uuuu-cckkkk_.”

Harry’s hips slow as he lets his orgasm tear through his body, going limp against Louis.

They lay there in a daze for who knows how long, resting on their backs and staring up at the ceiling while they wait for their energy to return. Harry is the one who gets up first after pressing a sloppy but tactile kiss to Louis’s sweaty forehead, wiping himself and then Louis down, and pulling the smaller lad up when he’s done. “C’mon, let’s go get Zee up, love.”

Louis smile softly up at him, hair sex-mussed and brain delirious from his post-sex haze, before lazily climbing out of the bed and following after the taller man.

-

Somewhere between getting Xavier up and making a hectic full English breakfast with Harry at the stove and Xavier as his ‘sous chef’ as Harry has claimed he needed to be called and Xavier had insisted as well, it had been decided Xavier was in desperate need of a haircut.

Louis knew he had been, but given how the last time they tried to get him one went, much like the few and far between times before that, he had good reason for putting it off as long as possible.

(read: Xavier had screamed bloody murder during their previous visit to the shop, balling his eyes out in the chair and eventually needing for Louis to hold him in his lap while the poor, poor, patient sweet lady who had been given the job of Xavier’s haircut had tried to work around the fact that Xavier had his head burrowed into Louis’s shoulder while he sniffled for the majority of it, making it turn out uneven. Louis paid the lady double anyway just for putting up with the monstrosity that was his child for that day.)

And he was right to, because today was going just about as well as last time, just for a different reason. Xavier had been happy to agree to a haircut, happy to get in the chair, and happy to sit still (mostly because Louis is not above bribing his child when the need arises and had promptly promised ice cream after if the boy obliged), and Xavier _had_ been happy, up until the point where he realized and resolutely decided that he indeed liked his hair long, especially if it matched his Papa’s.

Which. That was an entirely different battle, and Louis probably should have thought about this happening before they got into the car and drove the twenty minutes to the mall just to walk into the salon where Louis always got his and Xavier’s hair done and have the toddler throw a fit, but he hadn’t.

So Louis was standing here, at the back of a barber shop, trying to negotiate with a four-year-old on trying to get his hair cut while Rebecca - the angelic hairdresser that was stuck with them every time - stood to the side with a fond and knowing smile on her lips, waiting to see who would inevitably win this argument.

Louis hates to say that he’s probably the one losing at this point.

“Zee, I really need to get your hair cut Bub. It’s in your face too much and it’s driving you crazy,” Louis begs, doing his best to give his ‘ _I-mean-business-and-as-much-as-it-doesn’t-seem-like-it, I’m-in-charge’_ look.

The boy pouts, crossing his arms where he's sat in the chair and using the same argument that he’s been using for the last ten minutes. (He may not be very imaginative with his excuses, but he sure is stubborn, something Louis is pretty sure comes from him, as much as he would refuse to admit it to anyone else.) “No. I don’t wanna. Papa hasn’t cut his hair,” he helpfully points out, shaking his head in earnest with wide, _green green_ eyes that almost always seem to find a way to melt Louis’s defenses.

Louis sighs, looking at his boy desperately. “I understand that babe. But Papa isn't running around a playground at school every day. You’re gonna trip over something eventually Bub.”

“ ’M not Daddy.” That’s a lie. Niall told him it happened last week.

Louis huffs, “Yes. You will.”

“No.”

“ _Yes_ ,” he emphasizes.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yeah-huh.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“ _Ye-_ ya know what? This is ridiculous. I’m not arguing with a toddler over this. Xavier, you're getting your hair cut. No excuses.”

Xavier just sits there for a heartbeat, maintaining challenging eye contact with his father before his lip starts to wobble, eyes getting a little glassy and then it’s like the dam breaks.

He starts crying, letting out pleads in between small shaky sobs where he’s sat in his chair, hair falling across his forehead and into his eyes. “B-but I don-t wann-aaaaa. I-I want hair like - P-Papa’s. _Dadd-yyyyy_.” His words are half shouted, wavering, on the verge of becoming screams, and Louis sighs heavily, looking around and apologizing with a small smile to everyone who’s giving him sympathetic smiles; like they’ve been exactly where he is right now and they understand. He’s grateful they don’t seem annoyed with his inability to control his kid at the moment.

He turns back to Xavier. “Love, you can't cry right now. I know you love your hair baby - I do too, yeah? - but you really need to get it cut okay? I need you to listen to me Bub.” His voice is soft as he speaks, making sure to not upset the toddler more, and the boy sits there, lip still trembling and tear running down his cheeks, but he’s stopped wailing.

“B-but, I don’t wanna Daddy. _Please_. I love ‘m hair ‘s much.”

His lips trembles some more and his shoulders shake while he tries to breathe around the sobs that are trying to make their way up again, and Louis ducks his head in momentary defeat, turning around to where Harry has been standing silently, trying to let Louis handle it because he knows Louis wants to do it himself.

He rests his head on Harry’s shoulder, shaking it back and forth as he tries to figure out how to convince his crying toddler. Harry sighs sympathetically, wrapping an arm around Louis’s back and holding him while he takes deep breaths in an attempt to call himself down, rubbing shapes there.

Louis can feel Harry shift and he guesses the man was looking towards their distraught toddler when he spoke next, slow and uncertain. “What if… what if I get my hair cut too?”  
  


Louis lifts his head off Harry’s shoulder with an interested quirk of his eyebrow, and he turns back with a thoughtful look, processing the idea and waiting to see what the toddler thinks about it.

He doesn’t seem to like it though, because he’s still upset. Not upset like he’s going to cry, but he pouts at Harry. “But I like your curls Papa,” the boy hiccups; he almost looks like the idea of Harry cutting his hair is offending _him_.

“It’ll grow out again love, I promise. How ‘bout we get both our hair cut now, and then when it grows out, we can keep it long together yeah? How’s that sound babe?”

The toddler’s over the moon at the idea of getting to match his hair to his father’s, and he beams, jumping excitedly in his seat, turning to Louis with a hopeful grin. “Yeah! Wanna get my hair cut Daddy!”

Louis lets out an appreciative breath, thrilled that they finally found a compromise so that Rebecca can finally get to work after the last probably close to half an hour they’ve spent arguing, except he’s a little hesitant. Cos like. He loves Harry’s long hair, even if it’s not as long as it was in University. And, yeah, okay, it will obviously grow back and all that, won’t even take long actually, but Harry’s curls are gorgeous and Louis kinda doesn’t want to have to sacrifice them.

He turns to Harry, a serious, contemplative expression on his face, and looks at the man. “You’ll grow it back out?”

At Harry’s reassuring nod ( _and amused quirk of his lips,_ Louis notes) that, yes, he will, Louis turns back to his boy, nodding his head. “Alright love, that’s fine. Get your hair cut now yeah?”  
  


The toddler beams, ecstatic, and jumps in his seat, “Yeah Daddy!”  
  


Rebecca gets to work then, shortening the quiff around Xavier’s eyes so that he can actually see, cutting it down to just a small halo of curls that surround his head. The toddler - like Louis knew he would be, even if Harry hadn’t agreed to get his hair cut with him, but that’s neither here nor there - is thrilled with his new haircut, constantly running his little hands through it and grinning at the fact that he can see without having to push the curls out of his eyes every forth second.

Harry is next, Rebecca graciously agreeing to slot Harry in, in between appointments since it’s a slow day, and Louis and Xavier watch as the tendrils of hair fall to the ground on the mat that sits under the barber chair.

Harry’s done in fifteen minutes, Rebecca styling it just a tad, and he stands up too, looking into the mirror and subsequently beaming when Xavier shouts, “Papa! We have the same haircut! Daddy look!”

Louis does - already is actually - from where he’s standing a foot away with Xavier bouncing on his hip excitedly, and yeah, okay, letting Harry get his hair cut was a fucking genius idea because it looks a lot better than he thought it would, not that Louis thought he would look _bad_ , but, like.

Harry looks fucking sexy really, and Louis is very appreciative for the way Rebecca managed to frame his face so perfectly, even with the shorter locks she had to work with.

Louis makes sure to tell Harry this - that he looks beautiful, stunning really - and the response he gets back is a resounding grin, dimples and all.

They pay quickly, Louis again tipping with an appreciative bonus to make up for how much trouble they always are, but Rebecca assures him that she really doesn’t mind, that Xavier’s an angel compared to some kids she has to give a haircut to, and she understands anyway because she’s been there with her own kids.

A couple minutes later, when they’re buckling into the car in the mall parking lot and Louis just can’t stop staring at Harry’s new haircut - like really, has he mentioned how fucking sexy he looks? - he makes sure to give Harry another stamp of approval with a very serious, disbelieving, “We’re _so_ having sex tonight.”

Harry just lets out an abrupt cackle, giving Louis an amused, fond smirk before he pulls out of the parking lot and brings the vehicle onto the main road, driving the way to the nearest ice cream shop.

**_xxiii._ **

Louis knows everything about Harry.

He knows the small things like his favorite shirt, or the way he takes his tea, which side of the bed he likes to sleep on. He knows what the one meal Harry’d eat forever would be if he could, and he knows how to cheer him up when the day’s just been shit. He knows the bigger things too. He knows what the furrow between his eyebrows always means, how he shrinks in on himself when he doesn’t feel safe, feels _too_ big. He knows the exact way to make Harry grin so that his left dimple pops out instantly, knows the way his eyes gleam when he wants to cry and how his curls are matted to his forehead when he wakes up in a cold sweat; fuck, he even knows the face he makes when he comes, has that image ingrained into his head.

Louis probably knows more about Harry than Harry knows about himself, and that’s understandable when you’ve fallen in love by the age of twenty. So, with that said, Louis isn't particularly sure why he can't seem to comprehend why Harry’s been so detached lately. Busy, as Harry had put it the one time Louis brought it up, before swiftly dropping it when he felt like he’d been brushed aside, a feeling he hates.

Not too busy for his son (which like, good, because Louis would have to kill Harry for that) or co-workers or the kids running around Little Harbor Primary; just for Louis. He intentionally ignores Louis at work, doesn’t talk to him, and his eyes are always shifty when they make actually do manage to make awkward eye contact, almost like he has been purposefully blocking Louis out, and like, that’s just _weird_.

Louis doesn’t know what to think about it.

He’d thought… well he’d thought a lot. He’d thought it had been going well. Really fucking great actually. In the last few weeks, he’s spent almost every free moment in the man’s presence, wrapped in his arms or smiling so fondly with him at the sight of their son doing something silly and then cackling to himself in a way that is just so _Harry_.

And that’s a reasonable conclusion, that it’s been going well, at the very least, because aren’t random, soft kisses, and nights spent in a bathtub while one person comforts another over the anniversary of the loss of their mother, and waking up in the morning with needy touches and desperate kisses, isn't that supposed to mean that at the very least, _something’s_ going well?

But nevertheless, he’d been mistaken, evidently. Harry’s been withdrawn and reserved and _distant_ in the past week and some odd days, and Louis doesn’t understand _why_. More than that, he doesn’t understand why Harry’s behavior _hurts_ even when it shouldn't. He doesn’t understand why it makes him feel just _off_ when Harry’s dismissive, when he’s stopped giving Louis random kisses whenever they see each other, and when he just seems _bored_.

Bored like it’s not as important anymore, like he doesn’t care enough to act as if he cares about Louis, and funnily enough, that’s exactly what Louis was afraid of. Because he's already half gone for the man, in way too deep, and here Harry is, acting like everything is normal. He picks Xavier up, drops him off, smiles somewhat falsely at Louis in the hallway, laughs at the lad’s jokes.

And to anyone else, it would probably seem _normal_ , like everything’s great and dandy, but for Louis it’s _not_ , because he _knows_ Harry and he _knows_ something’s up, except he doesn’t have the slightest clue what it is or what to do about it. He knows they're not together and he knows he shouldn’t be feeling this way because he’s not _allowed_ to have any claim on Harry. This is exactly why he hasn’t willingly let himself become enamored in all that is Harry Styles, because, quite frankly, he knows he has no calm when it comes to Harry, knows he falls too hard, too fast. And like, maybe it’s just hormones. Maybe he’s just feeling a little lonely, so Harry seems distant when really, he’s not, but then he’ll run into Harry again or hear from him, and it’ll feel scarily close to what Louis’s been dreading and it _hurts_ , is the thing. It hurts so much, and Louis’s utterly pissed at himself because he told himself this was specifically what he wouldn’t do, and he did it, and all it took for him to realize it was a lack of interest, which. Pathetic.

_But_. Louis has reserved himself to reasoning that it’s just him; that he’s being irrational and everything’s fine. (Besides his ability to overreact that is; that definitely needs some work.)

So, being that it’s February 1st, nothing less than Harry’s twenty-sixth birthday (naturally), Louis decides to man up and stop being a pathetic excuse for a human and actually talk to Harry, probably take him out and celebrate his birthday while he’s at it too.

His plan’s solid really (at least Niall had thought so when he’d nervously and slightly hysterically pitched the idea to him), and after he drops Xavier off for the playdate that they’d scheduled with Bear a couple days ago, Louis gets back in his car, driving the way to the address Zayn had given him.

He’s excited, eager, if not a little nervous, as he drives, and the first thing Louis notices when he pulls up in his Chevy Impala fifteen minutes later, is how _well-off_ (for lack of a better term) the house is. It’s a two story, the outside decorated with big windows and black shutters that are surrounded by white, fiber cement siding all along the structure. It’s not _humungous_ , not a mansion by any means, but it’d be large for even a family of seven, and given the fact that Harry is living there alone, it’s definitely more than enough.

There’s a car parked in the driveway that Louis doesn’t really recognize, but he shakes it off, assumes it’s just a friend maybe, that they came to wish Harry a ‘happy birthday’ too. Maybe he knows them, he considers offhandedly while he climbs out of the car and makes his way up the sidewalk. He feels a little unsettled, a bit uneasy, now that he’s actually here, like maybe it was a severely terrible idea, but he’s knocking on the black door before he can think too much about it, rocking back and forth on his heels with a keen smile on his face while he waits for the door to swing open.

He looks around the neighborhood once he hears footsteps shuffle around inside and start to approach the door, observing the other homes that have been built on the street that confirm the inkling Louis had driving in that Harry’s neighborhood is on the posher side of the outskirts of London. His eyes flicker from the snowmen in one front yard to the woman and her dog that are jogging by on the opposite sidewalk just as the door is opened. He turns back, buzzing, eager to see green eyes again after what’s felt like a lifetime, excited and smiling like it’s Christmas. Louis’s starting to feel like this might have just been a genius idea on his part, to surprise Harry, and his excitement rises as he turns.

He’s met with brown hazel ones instead. Brown hazel ones that are connected to a naked body save for a pair of boxers that are halfway down his thighs and just barely covering the man’s cock, which Louis can very blatantly see is hard through his trousers.

And suddenly, suddenly Louis feels really dumb. He’s frozen as he stands there and takes in the shocked man in front of him - who at least has the decency to look embarrassed at his choice of clothing, or lack thereof – regretfully flicking his eyes further into the house, past the wide shoulders of the man that happens to look a little familiar standing in the doorway, and what his eyes meet hurts a little more than the reality of having the door of Harry’s house opened by a naked stranger.

(Because Louis’s not naïve enough to even try to entertain the idea that this might not be Harry’s house.)

And that assumption is correct, because past the man’s shoulder, Harry is sitting on the large couch in the rather large living room in all his glory, legs parted and head tipped back in pleasure, completely naked as well and hand on his cock as he runs his fingers up and down, probably waiting for the man who’s stood in front of Louis right now. Right.

Louis’s bright and overeager grin that he had held just seconds prior slips off his face and his expression falls in a matter of seconds. There’s a part of Louis that thinks he shouldn’t be shocked. He kind of knew something like this was coming - he’s been feeling it for the last couple days - but now that it’s actually a _reality_ , he feels a little (a lot) blind-sided. There was always a possibility - a rather large one if Louis’s going to be honest with himself right now - of this happening, and how foolish was it of him to think he and Harry were exclusive, that Harry doesn’t have a right to fuck (because there’s literally no other explanation for what’s going on right in front of him; Louis may be naïve, but he's not dumb) whoever he wants?

Louis also knows it’s so completely and utterly selfish for him to be hurt right now; to expect that he automatically gets Harry to himself when Harry can't even get confirmation about how Louis feels. Trust him, he’s blatantly aware of how unfair that is, how selfish and shitty of a situation it’s made for, but he can't help it.

He's not ready to dive headfirst into all that is Harry fucking Styles, let himself be completely enamored in the man again. But at the same time, Louis doesn’t think he could possibly ever accept _not_ having claim over the man, could never accept that Harry might move on. So really, it’s a shitty situation they're in, and it’s nobody’s fault but Louis’s. Despite all that though, accepting that no one else is to blame for this except himself, it’s doing nothing to ease the sudden ache in his chest, how the lump in his throat won’t go away and how he just kinda _hurts_ all over.

So Louis… Louis doesn’t know how to react. He thoughtlessly assumed everything over the last few months had been Harry showing him how much he meant, he thought it was Harry actively pursuing not only being a part of Xavier’s life, but also Louis’s again. He thought that’s what all the unofficial dates, and playful banter, and soft looks, and random impromptu hang out sessions on the couch late at night when Xavier was already asleep in the other room, meant. He’d thought… he’d thought a lot, but clearly _,_ he was wrong.

Which leads Louis to where he is now, standing in the open doorway in front of the man he now recognizes as the same one that had been at fault for Xavier being dropped off late that one night a couple weeks ago, mouth agape in shock, a lump in his throat that he tries to swallow over, and the space behind his eyes burning a little. But no, _no_ , Louis refuses to cry.

The man - who he still doesn’t know the name of - is standing in front of him, hand still on the door from opening it, and not completely sure what to do. Louis doesn’t either.

He tries to open his mouth, to make some kind of noise so that Harry stops what he’s doing, stops getting off to the thought of another man right in front of Louis, but all that comes out is a choked, abrupt sob.

Louis realizes unimportantly that the reason Harry's been distant is probably because Harry's been busy. Busy fucking another man.

The strange sound is what brings Harry out of his arousal induced trance, and he startles when he sees who’s at the door. Louis doesn’t think he’s ever seen Harry move faster than the way he jumps off the couch with a yelp, frantically reaching for the pile of fabric on the ground and all but jumping into a pair of blue briefs, eyes wide. The face of a man who doesn’t look regretful for what he’s done, just for being caught.

Harry’s quick to try to make his way around the couch and to the door, but Louis’s quicker, he refuses to be anything less, muttering a quiet, ‘sorry’ to the man in the door and scattering off as quick as he can, stepping off the doorstep attached to the covered front porch and hurrying his way down the lawn, trying so hard to just make it to his car. If he makes it that far he can break down.

God doesn’t love him that much though, because there’s a hand gripping onto his firmly, holding him back from just fleeing and quite literally running away from his problems.

“Let _go_ of me Harry,” he snaps, whipping around to face the man, seething, his words laced with nothing short of venom.

Harry looks stunned, like he can't even imagine this is happening to him, but he also looks hurt, like somehow Louis has done him wrong and not the other way around. And _fuck_ _no_.

Harry hurries to speak, mouth trying to form words that he can’t quite materialize. He blurts out, “It’s not what you think it is Louis.”

Louis abruptly stops trying to wrench his arm away from Harry, and he feels suddenly indescribably calm, like he’s just so angry that he can't even show it. He scoffs (laughs really, cackles even) so fucking loud, throwing his head back with a probably bordering on manic snort.

And a small part of Louis’s mind can't help but think how crazy they must look to anyone else, tears threatening to fall down his face while he prepares to scream, and Harry in just his boxers (he’s not hard anymore thank fuck; apparently being caught about to have sex with another man by the father of your child has that effect on you) on the sidewalk outside of his house, gripping Louis firmly and trying to get him to understand.

When Louis gets past the disbelief of the hurried, so-cliché-it-actually-hurts words that came from the man in front of him, he shakes his head with an unamused, unimpressed sneer. “That’s rich, H. Honestly. So creative. You’ve really-fucking-convinced me. I must just be crazy then, yeah?”

Harry visibly slumps, but his grip doesn’t waiver. “No, really Lou. We’re not together.”

Louis glares. He’d never thought they were - the thought hadn't crossed his mind in the last five minutes, give or take - but maybe that hurts more; that it’s just a quick fuck. That Louis’s so unimportant he can be replaced with nothing but a warm body. It definitely hurts more. “Great Haz, I never fucking asked.”

He goes to tear his arm away from Harry again, but Harry keeps gripping him, looking at him dumbly, but not saying anything. Louis raises an eyebrow when Harry’s been successfully silent for what’s bordering on sixty seconds. “Well are you going to let me go or are you gonna keep trying to make up shit? Cos really Harry, I don’t have time for this today.” That’s not true. His whole day was going to be planned around Harry. He’s pathetic.

Harry gets his head in gear, rambling out whatever nonsense he can come up with as quick as possible. “No Lou, it’s really not what you think. We’re not together. We’re just friends. With - benefits?”

It comes out like a question, as if Louis would fucking know or like he wants to, and his face hardens, pulling harder out of Harry’s grip and this time Harry lets him. “So that’s what we’re doing now? _Thank you_ , Harry. That makes me feel _so_ much better, honestly. I’m _so_ fucking glad you think it’s gonna hurt less just because you’re just fucking him and it’s not emotional. Good to know that you’ve arsed whatever it is that’s going on between us up because you weren't getting laid regularly enough. That’s just - wow Harry. Fuck you.”

Harry’s face falls substantially, but his determination doesn’t waver. “No Louis, that’s not it. He’s not important okay? He’s just- - he’s an old friend. I met him in Uni after… well after I left - and we decided to be fuck buddies, quite frankly, and nothing else and he was in town and he came over and we just - I made a bad choice Lou. A really bad one and I’m so fucking sorry just - _please_. He’s not _important_ Louis.”

Louis somberly looks past Harry when he’s done with his little monologue, eyeing the man in the doorway who has now covered himself in a blanket, watching the fight go down between Harry and Louis in front of him, and flicking his eyes back to Harry. He suddenly feels exhausted, like the fights just gone out of him, and he gives Harry a miserable look, scoffing softly, unbelieving. “Well at least I know what not important looks like.”

Louis says it softly, no energy to keep going, turning around and shaking his head. He just barely lets a couple tears fall now that he can't be seen, walking determinedly back to his car. He opens the front door unceremoniously, buckling himself and starting the car without a word.

He pulls away from the curb as quickly as he can, looking back only once to where Harry is standing, shoulders hunched, and muttering out the open window,

“And happy birthday asshole.”

**_xxiv._ **

Apparently, they _were_ doing that now, because Harry doesn’t even do a double take when he sees Louis grinding his arse onto Mark - Mitch? Matt? Louis doesn’t really remember, but moreover, he doesn’t really care - in the dim lighting of the club they're at. But that’s probably because Harry’s too preoccupied with the man who’s currently grinding himself back on him.

Belatedly, Louis doesn’t quite understand how this all went downhill so fast either, not when he was being so careful, making sure this didn’t happen - that him and Harry wouldn’t have some big fight that got them into doing anything that would get the other fuming - but here they are anyway, in the same club as Zayn’s birthday celebration when Harry had another man gagging for it, funnily enough, doing exactly that.

Liam, Niall, and Zayn are looking at them with concern from where they’re sat at a table in the back of the club, sipping cautiously on whatever alcohol they chose when they arrived, and not quite knowing what to do. They’d thought it would be a nice idea to go out for Harry’s birthday since they hadn’t gotten to celebrate properly on his real birthday two weeks ago. Nothing too extravagant though, just pay for a couple of Harry’s drinks for a night, but the seemingly innocent plan had gone to complete shit as soon as the guest of honor had arrived, the same man who had stood naked in front of Louis a couple weeks ago by his side.

Louis had been introduced to _Jeff apparently_ , an introduction that had been accompanied by a malicious look in Harry’s eye, like he was testing Louis, trying to get some kind of reaction or just _something_. Louis refused to give one though, and he numbed the shitty feeling that rose in his stomach every time he saw Harry dancing with _Jeff_ with shot after shot, only taking but ten minutes after he had downed his fifth to find a body to grind on, distract himself from Harry.

So here he was with Matt (he’s 76% sure that’s the right name, so he’s sticking with it), grinding back on him and trying to forget why it hurts so much to see Harry with someone else. It’s working pretty well Louis thinks. Working pretty well to distract him from not only tonight, but every night, every day, and every minute from the last two weeks.

Because it’s been a shitty, painful couple of days. And like, they’d all been pretty equally crappy, but the first was probably the worst, when Louis had to face Harry showing up at the flat, trying to talk to Louis and explain. Except he’d done that already. He’d explained perfectly well actually, that the naked man in his house had indeed been there to fuck him, or for him to fuck, that it was a regular situation the two found themselves in so Harry didn’t quite _understand_ what the problem was, but despite it being ‘perfectly normal’, he still felt the need to apologize. That didn’t quite make sense in Louis’s eyes.

But maybe that was because all he could see when his eyes met Harry’s features in the last two weeks, was the first image of the man in the doorway, how pleased Harry looked sitting on the couch and getting ready to fuck someone who wasn’t Louis, how he didn’t even notice Louis until the man was choking on a sob because he was such an _idiot_ ; an idiot for being ignorant enough to believe that showing up unannounced to a house he’d never been to for a man he had no claim over to surprise him for his birthday was a good idea.

Or maybe the worst was that Monday, when Harry had decided that two attempted apologies were enough and if Louis wasn’t going to accept it, that was his problem. Maybe that was the worst because Harry had very obviously, purposefully ignored Louis at the staff meeting that morning; every time Louis raised his hand with a _real question_ and was looked over by his boss. It was blatantly obvious to the rest of the staff too, and it was _humiliating_ for Louis. The way heat spread over his cheeks whenever Harry would pointedly look at his raised hand, call on the person behind him, answer and move on without a thought to spare for Louis, and how everyone kept looking at Louis and wondering what the hell happened between the two. It was humiliating and embarrassing beyond measure for Louis, and it only got worse the longer his coworkers stared at him.

So maybe the few days after that were the worst, when it was like they had an unspoken agreement to hurt each other in the most significant way possible. By humiliating each other in front of coworkers, ignoring one another in a public conversation with someone else who had been unfortunate enough to be stuck in the crossfire, or just being plain assholes, doing anything to get the other man’s attention just to show off that it’s not their attention they actually want; _by grinding their bodies on another and waiting to see who would break first._

So here they are, at the club that nobody could remember the name of, dressed as slutty as possible in the tightest pair of jeans they owned and fabric that can barely pass as a shirt, grinding drunkenly on someone who doesn’t actually mean shit to either of them, stealing glances across the floor when the lights hit just right, and they can make out each other’s faces in the sweaty mess of bodies in the mosh pit of plastered drunks.

And. It’s not really fair of either Harry or Louis to use the men they’re using, but both Jeff and Matt seem unbothered by it, only working harder when they see their respective partners glancing at each other, like they’re happy to benefit to the cause as long as they’re getting the men to themselves, even just for a couple hours.

The thing is though, none of this is even necessary, because neither of them want to be doing this. There’s really nothing Louis wants more than to be back at his flat, Xavier tucked into his bed (where he is right now with Lottie watching him) and Harry by his side, just sharing the bed or a couch or body heat in general (Louis’s not picky). And there’s really nothing Harry wants more than to have Louis be the one touching him, have Louis on him and get to show every other person here that Louis is his and his only. But their stubborn idiots who are too blinded by pain to realize that, so they’ve settled for making sure the other has to be just as miserable as them.

They go throughout the night like that, making snide, spiteful comments over the tabletop to each other before they’re pulled back by one of the lads when Liam or Zayn or Niall notice the tears that threaten to spill behind the other’s eyes, the only thing preventing it being their pride. They’re purposefully riling one another up when Louis’s runs his tongue down his partner’s neck, sucking at the skin while Harry slips a thigh between Jeff’s legs to show Louis that he has no problem with helping get another man off. Louis thinks that’s pointless, because he already knows that. Harry’s birthday was the only proof he needed.

It continues for hours, and it’s heated, and it’s tense, and it’s shitty for anyone within thirty feet who have to listen and watch and live through it. The turning point though is when the clocks hitting sometime in the early morning and Harry and Louis are both standing out on the dance floor under the lights as sweaty bodies jump around them, and they’re yelling at each other, making digs and seeing who will go too far first.

It started off when they bumped into one another on the floor, both of them spinning around and taking the opportunity to start another shit storm here in front of Matt and Jeff and anyone else who cares to watch.

“Watch where you’re going Tomlinson,” the curly headed, and very much intoxicated, Harry spits, mouth twisting into a grimace like just the mere sight of Louis disgusts him.

Louis scoffs, only stumbling a little bit and words just barely slurred enough to be obvious. “How is it _my_ fault? You’re the big ass oaf with his limbs everywhere.”

“Yeah _love_ , and you’re the one too tiny to see shit.” Harry sneers at Louis, and the term of endearment isn't for comfort, Louis knows; it’s to make the dig sting more because Harry doesn’t actually _mean_ it. Not in the way Louis wants.

Louis makes an indignant sound. “No ‘m not… You are. Prick.” He’s pouting. It’s not endearing. It’s not.

Harry snorts. “Creative.”

Louis glares, narrowing glazed over eyes. “Right. Well. Leave us alone now yeah? Didn’t come here for you,” he spits, trying for indifference.

“Hard to believe when it’s my party baby,” Harry fires back, sloshing some of the contents of the beer he picked up at some undefined time when his body stumbles a little from the alcohol already in his system.

Louis gives him an unimpressed look. “I know you’re a self-centered, delusional _dolt_ , but we are in _public_. Not everyone’s here to celebrate your frog lookin’ ass.”

Harry raises his chin haughtily, sneering. “I happen to love frogs.”

“Well. You look like one.”

“I’m glad.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“I think it is… You look like a hedgehog. Cos you’re tiny-- and your eyebrows match. And you’re spiky.”

Louis rolls his eyes, defending cleverly, “I can’t be spiky,”

“I can’t be a frog,” Harry quips back quickly, smirking triumphantly. “Ha.”

They sound like toddlers.

And they’re drunk.

And their insults don’t even sound like insults. What the fuck is wrong with them?

They’re just kind of standing there, in the middle of the pit of sweaty, drunken club-goers, and Jeff and Matt are just kinda watching, looking back and forth between the two while they bicker, and it’s a little amusing honestly, except it’s not. Not for Harry, and certainly not for Louis.

They’re silent for a heartbeat, assessing, and Louis watches Harry with a thoughtful look. The crease between his eyebrows reappears, and his lips are turned down like he’s pouting while he thinks.

“You’re an asshole,” he decides on.

Harry raises his eyebrow, like he’s questioning how the fuck he did something wrong in the last minute and some odd seconds.

Louis explains, gesturing with his hands tipsily while he tries to figure out how to properly get the words out; get his point across. “You - you do whatever the fuck you want, and you think it doesn’t matter. And you - and you show up here and you dance with somebody else like I don’t fucking mean shit. And I don’t hate you even though I want to. So - so you’re an asshole . And – and an attention whore. Ha, yeah.” Louis smiles triumphantly like he’s stumbled upon something, when really, the only thing he’s stumbled upon while slurring out meaningless insults at Harry is the unfortunate brunette that had the pleasure of bumping into him during his rant.

He continues, absolutely sloshed and with no fucks to give anymore. “Couldn’t keep it in your pants, could you?” he slurs, syllables jumbled, and consonants close to incoherent. “Had to go fuck whoever you want. Shouldn’t have expected more from you though, honestly. Knew you always act like that, such a _slut,_ Harry. Pretend you give two shits and then go prove me wrong. Wouldn’t be surprised if that’s how you were in uni too though.”

He spurs on and gets an idea; adds, “Probably why you left so easy yeah? Just left me and Xavier so you could go fuck _Jeff_. You’re an asshole Harry, and I hate you… except I can't and I hate that. Honestly you can fuck off for all I care. You’re a whore and I wish I’d never met you.”.

The words are bitter and harsh when they spill out and Harry winces, visibly recoils at them, even when he’s drunk and can’t soberly comprehend a thing. Despite what Louis’s mouth speaks, he’s lying through his teeth. He looks at Harry like he’s practically begging for him to prove him wrong; to prove that Harry does in fact give two fucks. But Louis’s not making much sense and his reasoning falls flat, so that doesn’t happen.

Harry feels a little choked off anyway, like the room might be closing in on him. They’re back to throwing real arguments towards the other apparently, and all he can focus on is that they actually hurt, because Louis knows just what to say to hit the sore spots. “How fucking _dare_ you,” Harry starts, spitting the words out like fire while he tries to think of something that will sting Louis just as much. “I never would’ve left Xavier if I had known--”

“But you’d leave me, right?” Louis inputs unhelpfully, boldly.

Harry narrows his eyes, and in Louis’s peripheral vision, he can see how Jeff’s biting his lip, eyebrows furrowed like he’s genuinely worried about whatever Harry’s about to say. “You’re so fucking delusional Louis. You’re an idiot. Honestly. And that’s total fucking shit too. I never fucking cheated on you. Not once. It wasn’t cheating with Jeff two weeks ago because we’re not together remember? It was your idea, not mine. So don’t give me all that high and mighty bullshit just because _you can't deal with not feeling wanted_. That’s not my fucking fault either.”

Louis’s staring daggers at him, shoulders rising and falling rapidly like it’s all he can do to stop from doing something drastic. Punching Harry maybe. “Not my fault you can't keep it in your pants.”

Harry smirks a little, but it’s more of a sneer than a smirk, and he’s crowding Louis’s space now. It’s like something inside him snaps when Louis accuses him.

“ _It’s not my fault you’re not good enough for me_.”

He spits out the words fast - before he can possibly think of what they’ll do, given his intoxicated state - and his eyes widen; the second they’re out it’s like a light in his head switches, like suddenly nothing matters anymore. Hurting Louis is pointless and he fucking hates it.

…Except it’s too late to take it back so he’s going to have to stand by his words; pretend like his body isn’t screaming at him from the inside for being such an ass. It’s like time slows, and Louis is the only thing he’s focused on, so when the smaller man’s face falls, devastatingly so, Harry can do nothing but watch him crumble under his desperate stare.

Harry stammers for something to say, to take it back, to make it better; anything. Louis’s silent, and Harry’s just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The man Louis’s been dancing with is the one to speak up first, and it’s with a disappointed shake of his head, a hand on Louis’s waist too, _as if he can comfort Louis better than Harry can_.

Except, maybe right now he can.

“That was low mate.”

Harry’s eyes leave Louis’s for only a second, snapping to _the fucking douchebag_ by Louis, and glaring at the man, seething really. “ _Fuck off prick. You're not part of this_.”

And like, the man only seems a little intimidated by Harry, but he chooses to leave it anyway. It’s not his battle, so he steps back; not like he’s conceding, but to show he isn't up for a fight. He doesn’t leave though, just stands right behind Louis like a promise; a threat to remind Harry that although he has no idea who the man he’s been dancing with all night is, he has no fucking problem punching the shit out of Harry if he’s going to be an asshole. Harry would admire that if it was anyone else.

As it is though, Harry kinda hates the man right now, and he’s partly to blame for the situation they’re in. Or at least Harry’s gonna chose to blame Stranger #1 for this; he doesn’t want it all to be on him.

His eyes flick back to Louis, and his heart breaks at the image. Louis’s visibly drawn in on himself in the last twenty seconds, like he’s trying to hide himself, and yeah, Harry’s a fucking asshole. He looks only slightly tipsy now, eyes gleaming just enough for Harry to tell in the sporadic flashing lights of the night club, and it’s shattering for Harry to know he’s the one to have caused that.

He’s shaking his head, looking at Harry almost disbelieving, and Harry slumps, reaching his hand out for Louis, to stop him from running like he knows he's going to. “No - Lou, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it. Please.”

Louis pulls away from Harry’s grip like he’s been burned, mouth agape in shock and backing up slowly while he continues to shake his head, like he refuses to believe Harry right now. The first tear falls when Louis gains enough courage to look up, to meet Harry’s eyes, and he scoffs, snarls,

“ _Fuck you Harry_.”

He spits the words out like venom, and Harry doesn’t think he’s ever heard Louis sound as sincere in his words like he does right now more than a handful of times. Louis doesn’t waste a second spinning around, letting tears fall now that Harry can’t easily see his face, and running back through the mess of sweaty bodies, bumping into shoulder after shoulder as he goes, runs away from Harry.

It destroys Harry to watch him run away, and he’s blatantly aware that it’s his fault that Louis is hurting like this. That he couldn’t even make up some kind of comeback past ‘fuck you, Harry’ because he’s so upset, and Harry knows he hasn’t fucked up this bad in a long time. He hasn’t seen that look of absolute betrayal in those blue eyes since the day he left five years ago.


	3. Part Three

**_xxv._ **

Louis knew that fighting with Harry would put a strain on their relationship, their ability to work with each other, and their ability to parent, but what he failed to take into account was how it would affect Xavier.

The four-year-old had been extra cranky lately, keeping short tempers with Louis (and assumedly Harry too, but saying as though Louis hasn’t been around the man for a week and a half since the club _incident_ , he really can't know) and using any opportunity to have a meltdown.

Louis had just chalked it up to the boy being upset that maybe he wasn’t getting enough attention, or maybe something happened at school, so he wasn’t going to intervene unless his boy _asked_ for help. That was until the night Xavier came back from his weekly visit with his other father completely in fits, upset at the world and talking back to Louis with everything he had, breaking down and wailing as soon as Louis reprimanded him.

That’s when Louis decided it wasn’t just a bad day at school or insufficient attention that was upsetting Xavier so constantly, and the only common factor was Harry. The toddler had been happy when he left, and completely in fits when he returned four hours later.

Louis was already pissed off enough at Harry, lots of pent-up frustration that was just leading up to the inevitable encounter when they would eventually talk (or probably yell) everything out, get everything off their chests. He’d been waiting until he finally couldn’t hold it in anymore, and Xavier was the absolute last straw.

So that’s how Louis ends up waiting in his empty room on the following afternoon, leaning his bum back against his desk with his arms crossed and foot tapping on the tile of his classroom while the clock ticks down until the designated time Harry was told by Liam to show up.

Sure enough, Harry walks in right as the minute hand is hitting the ‘thirty-five’ and Louis is quick to compose himself, staring intently as Harry walks himself into the room.

As soon as Harry’s close enough for Louis to start, Louis stands up off the desk, arms still crossed with narrowed eyes, ready to demand answers. “What the hell happened yesterday Harry?”

Harry just… looks confused. This probably wasn’t the direction he envisioned this conversation going in. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb Harry. Why the fuck was Xavier so upset last night?”  
  


“I’m not playing dumb. I honest to God have no idea what you’re talking about. Xavier was fine yesterday.”

Louis shakes his head. “No. Nuh-uh. He came home yelling and screaming and as soon as I told him not to, he started wailing. That doesn’t just happen Harry. _What did you do_?”

Harry scoffs. “So just because our son is upset, it’s automatically my fault? That’s bullshit Lou.”

“Don’t ‘Lou’ me; it _is_ your fault. He was perfectly happy when he left, and all the sudden you drop him off and he’s throwing a fit. I know my kid Harry, and that’s not how he acts. Something happened.”

“Well it wasn’t fucking me Louis,” Harry exasperates.

Louis raises an eyebrow, ideas rushing through his head as he figures out what to say next. “What did you guys do yesterday?”

“Wha - _why_ does that matter?”

Louis rolls his eyes, huffing and letting his arms fall back to his sides instead of across his chest. “Just answer the question. What did you guys do?”

Harry thinks. “Well we uh - we went to a movie that he said he’d been wanting to see. He seemed fine then. Then we left and went to dinner at the diner; seemed fine then too. We talked about some stuff. Like school and his friends and you and his day and--”

“Me?”

“Yeah…?”

“What _about_ me?”

“I don’t know. Fucks it matter Louis?”

Louis scoffs. “It matters Harry. What. About. Me. ?”

“ _I don’t know,_ Louis. He just started talking about you and making comments about your hair and your eyes and stuff. I dunno. Asked some questions too.”

“ _What_ questions?”

Harry shrugs. “Not important ones. Just small things. Like your job and my favorite things about you and why we haven’t kissed in a while. He asked why we don’t live together.”

Louis bites his lip. “And what did you say?”

Harry gives Louis a funny look. “What could I have possibly said Louis? I told him the truth obviously. That we’re not together.”

_There it is._

Louis sighs, rubbing his temples with his fingers and shaking his head. “Shit Harry, you _idiot_.”

Harry makes an affronted noise. “Ex- _cuse_ me? What’s your problem Louis. I didn’t do anything.”

Louis keeps rubbing his forehead. “Harry you can't - you can't just tell a _four_ - _year_ - _old_ that kind of thing. You can't tell a child that his parents are a lost cause. _Fuck_ Harry, honestly - you’re an _idiot_.”

“I didn’t tell him we’re a lost cause Louis. I told him we’re not together--”

“--It’s the same thing Harry. To him, it is.”

“And I can’t just lie to him Louis. This isn't even my fault. You haven’t spoken to me in two fucking weeks. We haven’t been around each other with him in a month. Maybe if you got your shit together this wouldn’t be a problem.”

“ _My_ shit? Are you fucking out of your _mind_?! God Harry, you're _impossible_. _YOU’RE_ the asshole who screwed everything up. I haven’t talked to you because I can't even stand to _LOOK_ at you, let alone be in the same ROOM. We haven’t been around Zee together because I _can’t_. What am I supposed to do, walk around like nothing’s wrong? Harry you told me I’m not _good enough_. That _hurt_. I fucking hate you for it. I can't just act like I’m okay and the fact that you think I can - that shows me how much you care. I can't - _FUCK_.” Louis rubs his eyes with the back of his hands. He’s not going to cry. He isn’t.

Harry takes a step forward; reaches out for the man in front of him with a broken expression. “Lou--”

Louis rips his arm away. “NO. Absolutely not Harry. I just - we’re doing this now. I can't keep ignoring it. We have to talk about this so we’re going to talk. The reason I haven’t _spoken_ to you is because I found you _naked_ with a man you told me wasn’t important, when all I was fucking trying to do was be there for your fucking birthday. I haven’t talked to you because it hurts too damn much to look you in the eye, and the last time we had a proper conversation - albeit we were wasted - was when you told me I wasn’t good enough for you. You can't even understand how that felt Harry. So no, I haven’t fucking tried to fix this because it’s not _me_ who needs to fix it.”

Louis takes a deep breath. “And Xavier: I don’t fucking know what to do. I need to be his father before I can even think about trying to be anything for you and I _knew_ that. I knew that and I did the exact fucking opposite and now he’s hurting, and I can't figure out how to help him because you make everything so _difficult_. What am I supposed to do Harry? Let it all go and just wait till it happens again? _What the fuck am I supposed to do_?”

Louis takes shaky breath when he finishes, and his shoulders are rising up and down rapidly, looking at Harry and just waiting. The silence is deafening.

Harry sighs depreciatingly. “I don’t know,” he mumbles, shaking his head and rubbing his forehead with his palms.

Louis deflates. “Is that all you have?”

“I don’t _know_ Louis.”

“Then I can’t keep doing this.”  
  


Harry’s head snaps up. “What do you mean?”  
  


Louis sighs. “I don’t know. I think - I just don’t know right now.”

The man’s eyes harden. “Oh, so it’s a good enough answer for you but not for me? _That’s_ bullshit.”

“Harry--”

“No, you know what Lou? You don’t get to fucking pin this all on me. You made yourself perfectly clear when we talked about this months ago. You don’t get to play the fucking victim here. I’m hurting just as much as you, and for fuck’s sake, I’m not going to let you act like I’m not. You’re bullshitting yourself Louis, and I’m fucking done with it. Get yourself together. Act like a gosh damn adult for once in your fucking life.”

Louis’s pretty sure his eyebrows are in his hairline by now and the shock has got to be written all over his face. “Get _MY_ self together? Are you _SERIOUS_? ‘Hurting as much as me’?! ‘ _It’s not my fault you’re not good enough for me.’_ THAT’S what you said to me Harry. I’ve been the most damn ‘ADULT’ in my life for the past MONTH, then I have been since you LEFT. So don’t give me shit about ‘getting myself together’. Get your damn self--”

Harry’s eyes widen. “Louis--” He looks panicked.

“--together. No, you know what Harry? Fuck you. Fuck you and all the bullshit you’ve said in the last hour. Fuck you and--”

“Lou--” _Why does he keep interrupting me?_

“--everything you think I’ve done wrong. Fuck you and that stupid whore who was at your house. Fuck you for leaving. Fuck you for lying. Fuck you for being an asshole and for not giving more than two shits about me. Fuck you for not being there for Xavier. Fuck you for--”

“LOUIS.” _For FUCK’S sake._

Louis stops. “ _WHAT_?”

Harry breathes out, shoulders slumping. “ _Xavier_ ,” he gestures towards the doorway.

“Huh? _Crap_.”

When Louis turns around, Xavier is standing right there, in the door to the classroom, and his expression tells Louis all he needs to know that he’s been standing there for long enough. Louis relaxes how tight and tense his body inadvertently is from yelling at the sight of the four-year-old, and he takes a step towards the door, only for the boy to take one in the opposite direction, lip quivering and eyes gleaming. _Crap_.

Louis smiles softly at the boy, trying to calm him down from what he knows is three seconds away from another meltdown, and he takes careful steps toward the toddler, doesn’t wanna scare him.

It doesn’t matter though because Xavier’s already turning around, escaping back through the hallway before Louis can get to him.

“ _Crap_.” Louis mutters under his breath and starts after him, needs to grab the boy before he can hide, but before he can, there’s something pulling on him arm, keeping him from following.

“--No, Louis, you can’t.” Louis turns back to see Harry looking at him sympathetically, his hand still gripping Louis’s arm.

Louis huffs. “Let me go. I need to get him.”

Harry’s grp doesn’t waiver, but it does soften, as does his face. “I know love, but you can't go after him.”

Louis scowls. “Why not Harry? He’s _my_ son.”

“He’s mine too, Louis, and you were the last one he saw yelling. He’s not going to want to talk to you, okay? I’m _sorry_. Just stay here, I’ll get him Lou. Let me get him.”

Harry keeps an arm on Louis while he waits for a response, and Louis huffs, deflating and heart hammering in his chest. “Fine. I’ll stay here.”

Harry nods, releases Louis’s arm before disappearing around the corner the same way Xavier went. Louis runs his hands through his hair, exhaling heavily under his breath and holding the frustrated tears in just barely.

“FUCK!” He kicks a chair.

_He’s such an idiot; he just keeps messing up_. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_ \--”

“Lou?”

He whips around. “Har - oh.”

Liam’s standing there now, stopped in the doorway, having obviously seen Louis’s little fit, and he just looks concerned, frowning with a little crease between his eyebrows. “What’s wrong Lou? What happened?”

Liam walks in without invitation and makes his way towards Louis, being cautious, probably so he doesn’t get kicked next. Louis sighs, takes a shaky breath, letting Liam steady his with his arms.

“We - Harry and I were fighting and Xavier saw and he’s been upset lately and I don’t know what about and now he’s mad at me and he ran away and Harry went to get him because he’s _mad at me_ and it’s just all shit and _I don’t know what to do Li_.”

“Oh Lou.” Liam wraps his arms around Louis when he starts crying uncontrollably and holds him tight, rubbing his back in comforting circles and _fuck_ , when did Louis start acting like such a baby. Geez, he should be stronger than this. Why can't he be stronger?

Liam just holds him, whispers sweet nothings in his ear while he calms down, and Louis rests his head on Liam’s shoulder, wiping his snot on the man’s dress shirt. Gosh, Liam’s such a saint.

When the tears stop Louis lifts his head up, sniffling and smiling coyly up at the man in front of him. “Sorry, you’re probably gonna need a new shirt.”

Liam snorts, eyes crinkling with his laughter, and he smiles at Louis, taking a small step back now that the smaller man doesn’t need him in his personal space for comfort. “It’s okay Lou, just need to--”

“Daddy?”  
  


They both quiet and turn to face the door at the small voice, eyes meeting Xavier, Harry, and - Niall. _Great, now it’s a party._

Niall’s the one with Xavier in his arms, and the brunette is smiling carefully like he’s trying not to upset Louis with his presence, bouncing the toddler softly on his hip. Xavier’s sniffling in his arms and his eyes are a little red, dried tear tracks on his face and Louis’s heart breaks at the sight.

Xavier’s little red rimmed green eyes meet his father’s, and the boy visibly saddens at the sight of his father crying, like he thinks it’s his fault. Louis immediately steps forward, smiling softly at his boy to assure him that it’s _not your fault baby_ , and _I’m alright._

He reaches his arms out for the toddler and the boy comes willingly, making grabby hands for Louis and wrapping his arms tightly around his father’s neck as soon as he's in reaching distance. Louis holds the boy to his chest and presses a light kiss to the top of his head while the toddler clings to him. “Hi love. I’m so sorry baby. I wasn’t mad at you Zee, you know that right?”

Xavier just nods into Louis’s chest and sniffles, keeping his head tucked under his fathers.

“Hey,” Louis whispers down at the boy, “Can you look at me babe?”

Xavier slowly lifts his head up at his father’s request, and Louis kinda wants to cry again when he sees how red and splotchy the boy’s face looks, snot running out of his nose and eyes still gleaming with tears.

“I’m so sorry baby. I love you Bub.”

Xavier gives a watery smile and sniffles. “ ’S ‘kay Daddy. Love you.”

He buries his head back down once he’s responded and Louis can feel the boy smiling into his chest now that he’s gotten some reassurance. It’s utterly endearing and heart breaking all at the same time.

Louis holds him, resting his cheek against the toddler’s head and rocking them back and forth together while he waits for the boy to calm down and his sniffling to disappear; whispers quiet sentences into his ear that are only audible to the pair of them and makes the four-year-old giggle softly.

Niall speaks up a couple moments later when Xavier has stopped crying completely, and Louis slowly turns his head to face the man. “Lou?”

He doesn’t say anything else, just smiles softly at him like he knows something Louis doesn’t.

Harry speaks up next, says, “He told us why he was so upset love.”

Louis raises an eyebrow and waits for them to continue, flicking his eyes back and forth between the two and Liam who’s standing off to the side just watching.

“He came into my room crying,” Niall starts, “And I didn’t know why so I picked him up and held him while I waited for him to talk, but then Harry walked in sort of frantic and Xavier got all shy and didn’t wanna talk anymore so Harry explained what happened. And then we asked him what’s wrong and he wouldn’t look at Harry, but-- But then he just started talking and saying that he saw you guys fighting and he thinks you’re going to get divorced and--”

“ _Divorced_?”

Niall nods. “Yeah. He heard one of his classmates talking about their parents fighting and how they’re going to get divorced and now he thinks that’s what’s happening with you and Harry and he thinks that means that he won’t get to see one of you again. That’s why he’s been so upset Lou.”

Louis squeezes his eyes shut. _You fucking idiot Louis; you should’ve known. Honestly._

Louis nods as his response to Niall and shoots his mate an appreciative smile before he looks back down at the boy in his arms, craning his neck so he can see the toddler’s face where it’s pressed against his jumper. “Is that right love?”

The boy nods bashfully and Louis’s heart breaks.

“I’m so sorry you thought that baby, but what’s going on with your friend is completely different, yeah? Me and Papa are fine baby, I promise. You don’t need to worry about one of us leaving okay?”

Another nod.

He kisses the boy’s head. “I love you baby.”

The boy responds with a mumbled ‘love you too’ and Louis holds him in his arms for a couple of silent minutes, rocking him back and forth and letting the toddler fist his hands into his jumper and hold on as tight as he wants. Louis sort of forgets anybody else is in the room until Niall speaks up again. “Maybe… maybe someone should take him home… I’m sure he’s exhausted.”

Louis looks up as Niall finishes speaking and Harry is already walking towards him before he can even get his mouth open. “I can do it.”

Louis gives him a look. Harry reads it right away. “It’s fine Lou. I’ve got him love. I’ll take him home and get him dinner and he’ll be ready by the time you get there, yeah?”

Louis’s still unsure, and Harry takes another step closer to him, gently wrapping his hands around his wrists and giving Louis a look that says, ‘ _let me Lou’_. Louis nods.

Harry smiles softly, taking his hands off of Louis and instead reaching to wrap them around his boy, lifting him into his arms and letting the toddler cling to him too. “C’mon love,” he murmurs.

Louis leans over when his boy lifts his head of Harry’s shoulder and gives him a look that he knows means that he doesn’t want to leave. Louis smiles, pressing a reassuring kiss to the boy’s forehead. “Bye baby. I’ll see you at home love.”

“Bye Daddy,” the boy whispers back, voice gentle and vulnerable, resting his head back on his other father’s shoulder once again.

Harry gives Louis another soft smile and, “We’ll see you at home Lou,” before he turns around, whispers something into Xavier’s ear and making his way back to the exit of the classroom.

“I’ll help get him in the car,” Liam offers from where he’s been standing off to the side for the last twenty minutes, uncrossing his arms from where they were over his chest and walking over to where Harry has stopped.

The principal nods, smiling gratefully at Liam to let him know he approves, and then they both walk through the door, around the corner to the hallway that leads out to the staff car park, and that’s that. They’re gone.

Louis’s shoulders slump as soon as it’s just him and Niall in the room, and his best mate is quick to make his way over from the door, pulling the slightly smaller man into a fierce hug. Louis rests his face on Niall’s shoulder.

“ _Niall_ \--” His voice breaks again as soon as he speaks and Niall, the angel, just holds him tighter, lets Louis burrow into his neck and hide.

The Irishman rubs circles into Louis’s back and stays quiet, waiting for Louis to say what he knows he wants to say.

Louis’s voice is rough with emotion when he hiccups out, “This is exactly what I was worried about Ni. I - this _exact_ thing.”

Niall just squeezes him a little tighter. “I know Lou.” He holds the brunette, just lets him get it all out.

Louis cries into his shoulder.

-

It’s roughly two hours later when Louis walks into Xavier’s room, Harry trailing quietly behind him.

The boy is already in his bed, bathed and in pajamas, courtesy of Harry, and a sippy cup in his hands as he stares up with big, wide eyes at his fathers, waiting to be tucked in.

Louis smiles down at the boy with tired eyes, crouching down by the side of his bed and kissing his forehead. “Hi baby.”

Xavier smiles tiredly back up at his father, and his eyes light up when he sees Harry standing behind him. “What’s Papa doing here Daddy?”

Louis smiles, looking behind him at Harry and looking back to his boy. “Papa’s here to tuck you in, love. I think he’s going to be doing that a lot now baby. Is that okay?”

The toddler beams - tiredly - but he beams, and nods ecstatically. “Yeah, yeah, hi Papa!”

Harry steps closer at his mention, and he smiles down at the boy, bending over by Louis too and placing a kiss on the toddler’s forehead. “Hi baby. Time for bed Bub.”

The toddler nods again, and like his body’s been reminded that it’s exhausted, he yawns, eyes fluttering closed and open again. “Yeah,” he sighs, “Night Papa.”

“Night baby, I love you.”

Xavier smiles tiredly. “Love you Papa.”

Harry beams at his son and Louis’s heart aches at the picture as he looks back at his boy. “Night love. Sleep well monkey.”

Xavier mumbles something incoherent back and Louis smiles down at him, reaching over and pulling the comforter farther up over his shoulders to keep him warm. He stands up when the boy’s tucked in, ruffling his curls softly before letting Harry do the same, and once the boy is letting out quiet snores, they back out of the room, clicking the light off and closing the door softly behind them so they don’t disturb the toddler.

Louis closes his eyes and sighs once the door is shut, leaning his head against the door frame and letting himself think just barely over everything that’s happened in the last four hours.

Arms wrap around him from the back, comforting and safe, and he can feel Harry lean into him, hold him in his long arms. He can feel Harry’s breath on his neck and his fingers on his hips and his chest against his back. He can feel when Harry’s mouth opens to speak too. “It’s okay Lou. We’ll be fine love. We just have to work on it yeah? Don’t stress yourself out; he’s okay, we’re okay. That’s what matters.”

And logically, Louis knows this. He knows the misunderstanding was everyone’s and no one’s fault; he knows that it’s easily fixable and it can be avoided; he knows Xavier’s okay and he’s happy and he’s safe; but he also knows that he doesn’t want to deal with the fallout if this happens again; he doesn’t want to have to promise Xavier that everything is going to be okay if it’s not, and he doesn’t want to promise himself that either. So logically, wrapped in Harry’s arm with his boy fast asleep in his bed, Louis knows that everything is okay, but he can't help but worry about the time when it won’t be.

“Okay,” Louis sighs out when he remembers he’s supposed to answer Harry.

He can feel Harry hold him just a little tighter, squeezing his arms around him like a safety net and pressing a reassuring kiss to his neck and he basks in it, lets himself just forget everything and relax.

They stand like that for long, peaceful, fleeting moments, Harry holding Louis and Louis holding himself, until Harry shifts behind him, stepping back a little bit and speaking softly, like anything higher than a whisper will break whatever bubble they’re in. “We have to talk about it love.”

Louis nods, pulling his forehead off the door frame and straightens up. “Okay,” he repeats, nodding. “Couch.”

Harry lets him go first and they walk into the living room, only now lit up by the soft glow of the streetlights that shine into the flat through the window. Louis sits down first, curling up into the corner, and Harry sits close, close enough to comfort Louis but far enough so that he doesn’t overwhelm him.

Louis sits there with sentences going through his head, figuring out the best way to start. Harry does it for him. “What are we doing with each other Lou?”

Louis guesses Harry’s staring at him when he speaks, but with the way his own head it turned down, he can't be sure. He sighs, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “…I don’t know.”

He can feel Harry nod from beside him, picking at a rip in his jeans to occupy himself. “What do you want us to be doing?”

Louis bites his lip.

He doesn’t _know_ , is the thing. He’s just as scared as he was months ago, when this was all new again, and perhaps, he’s even more terrified now. Back then he knew he couldn’t dive headfirst and throw caution to the wind to be with Harry, but so much has changed since August.

Before it was being careful that he didn’t get attached, that he didn’t disturb Xavier’s lifestyle by adding another man to that, whether or not that man was his father. It was guarding himself and guarding his son, maintaining a certain distance so that he wouldn’t fall too hard again. He had priorities, priorities that came in the form of a three-year-old, now four-year-old, who had only ever had one definite rock in his life up until then - Louis - and he couldn’t be selfish when it came to the boy; there was no room for that.

Now though, now Xavier’s already attached. It wouldn’t matter whether he tries with Harry or not, because no matter what, Harry can’t leave. Not wholly. Now Xavier’s attached and because of that Harry is automatically a constant in his life forever, whether by choice or not. _Now,_ Louis’s already falling, and all the proof of that he needs is the last couple of weeks, every interaction with Harry.

So now - now the stakes have changed. They’re different, maybe even higher, and he’s still _scared_ , terrified. If he thinks about it too much it’ll freak him out too much and he’ll run. He’s always hated being vulnerable like this, vulnerable to a person, and completely and entirely letting Harry in would be just that. It’d be so much pressure to be perfect for Harry and perfect for Xavier and perfect for his friends and Louis just isn't _ready_ for that. But fuck if he’s ready to let Harry go because it’d hurt way too fucking much to see him with another man, someone else he loves that isn't Louis. It’s selfish as hell and fucking unfair, but Louis couldn’t feel any different even if he had wanted to. So he doesn’t _know_.

“Lou?”

Louis lets his lip go. “I think--” he starts, “--I think that I’m still scared. I’m utterly terrified Harry. But I also think that the last month has been shit. I think seeing you with somebody else that wasn’t me hurt like hell and I _know_ it’s not fair that I feel that way when I can't even decide what I want and I’m _sorry_. You don’t deserve that. But. Look where we are anyway. Because I love it when you kiss me for no reason, and I love when you’re just _here_ , and I love you with Xavier, and I love having you to myself. I love all of that and I’m _still so scared Harry_.”

He chances a glance up at Harry and when he does, he’s met with the man’s eyes already on his, soft and open. He sees his lips tug up just slightly before he ducks his own head again, waits for Harry to respond.

“What if - what if I _am_ yours? No wait, let me finish Louis--” Louis closes his mouth back up when Harry gives him an ‘ _I mean it’_ look, “--I know you’re scared baby. I know that seeing me with Jeff hurt you and I’m sorry because I knew better, and I know you’re not ready. But what if, what if we’re exclusive, but without being like… exclusive?”

Louis’s confused.

“Like--” Harry bites his lip in concentration, “We don’t have to put a label on anything we’re doing. We can just make our choices in the moment and see how it goes, but we won’t see anyone else either. So like. We don’t have to worry about that.”

Louis raises an eyebrow, “So no Jeff?”

Harry shakes his head, smiling softly. “No Jeff, love.”

Louis thinks. It doesn’t take much to decide, admittedly, a smile playing on his lips that he’s failing to suppress, and butterflies in his stomach that tingle. “I’d like that.”

Harry smiles back at him - grins really, and it’s a little blinding how happy he looks. “Yeah?”

Louis nods, smiling a little heartily. “Yeah. So then only mine right?”

Harry surges forward in lieu of an answer, presses his lips abruptly to Louis’s mouth.

The taste is intoxicating immediately and it’s everything Louis’s been missing for the past month. It’s like Harry’s everything he needs to live, like his lips are the finest wine and Louis is _parched_. It only takes but a moment for him to move his lips against Harry’s and he presses just as firmly back into the man, grips onto the fabric of his shirt desperately.

His eyes are squeezed tight as he relishes the way Harry’s mouth feels on his, and the kiss is short, chaste, but it’s everything anyway and it makes Louis a little dizzy with it, just the feeling of Harry back on him after so long.

Harry pulls back slowly after he mouths his lips against Louis one more time and they only open their eyes once their foreheads are pressed against each other in exchange for their lips. Louis’s smiling when he focuses on Harry in front of him, and the man smiles softly back.

“Only yours love.”

**_xxvi._ **

Louis wakes up to the sun just starting to shine in through the window, limbs tangled with Harry’s naked ones and the bedsheet just barely covering their waists. There’s a nice undercurrent from the window blowing over them, and a bird’s chirping outside, singing on the tree branch to a tune Louis can’t place but still knows, which. That just seems a little too ‘fantasy’ for Louis.

Someone’s drawing soft lines over the cool skin on his arm, and Louis smiles softly with his eyes closed, burying his face deeper into the pillow and scooting closer to the body that’s firm behind him.

“Morning, love,” the deep, raspy voice drawls from behind him, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck and squeezing the arm around his waist.

Louis hums, letting his eyelids slip open and taking in the semi-bright room, the shadows that cover the surfaces of some of his furniture. He twists around with a yawn, looking drowsily up at the man lying face-to-face with him on his bed.

“Time’s it?” he asks in a sleep-rough voice, dropping his head to rest it in the space between Harry’s collarbones.

Harry shifts, letting Louis cuddle into him and moving the hand from his arm to the small of his back and up and down his spine, placing a soft kiss to his mussed hair. “Five-twenty,” he sighs sleepily, resting his head on Louis’s.

Louis yawns again. “Early,” he hums. He usually sleeps for another twenty-five minutes.

It’s still the best he’s slept in months.

Harry makes a non-committal noise of agreeance, shifting back so he can look down at Louis. He smiles, sleep-rumpled; pillow lines creased on his face. “Hi,” he sighs.

“Hi,” Louis smiles dopily back.

Harry stares at him, smiling softly and studying every feature as Louis blinks; eyes flicking from the barely perceivable freckles around his nose to the hazy blue of his irises; the way his eyelashes flutter closed and back open again with dwindling sleep; the stubble that’s growing out on his chin to the golden brown of his eyebrow hairs.

He looks at Louis’s lips last, the soft cherry-red color that shades his mouth, smiling brightly like he’s won some prize, and he dips down to capture them. Louis pulls back before he can though, grinning wickedly and placing a hand on the wide expanse of Harry’s chest, splaying his fingers out in a star across his naked skin. He tsks. “Not before you brush your teeth, sir,” he teases, smiling even wider when Harry groans.

The man pouts, giving Louis his best disgruntled kitten look (which still hasn’t lost its affect, even after all these years that Louis’s had time to build up immunity), and Louis steels himself. “ _Pleaseee_ ,” Harry whines, ducking down quickly to try to kiss Louis before he can pull away, but Louis’s faster.

“Nuh-uh,” Louis tuts, shaking his head. “Brush, c’mon.” He pats Harry’s chest, mock-condescendingly, beginning to climb off the mattress.

Harry surrenders, sticky his tongue out at Louis in an act of maturity and pulls the duvet off himself, leaving him to just his boxers. “Fine,” he huffs, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

Louis grins like the cat that got the cream, smiling triumphantly and waddling his way towards the door once he’s out of the bed. “See, that’s not so hard is it? Just--”

He’s cut off by large hands grabbing his hips firmly, swinging him around, and Louis lets out a (very manly) squeak. Harry holds him to his chest with a devilish grin, ducking to kiss Louis before it’s too late and succeeding, capturing Louis’s smaller mouth in his own and sucking on his bottom lip.

Louis tries his best to squirm, to pretend like it doesn’t satisfy him to no end having Harry’s mouth on his bright and early, that Harry wants to kiss him morning breath and all, but he fails spectacularly, let’s Harry slip a tongue into his mouth. He moans softly in pleasure, which only makes Harry grin, effectively ending the kiss when it becomes just teeth as they grin stupidly at each other.

Harry pulls back, smiling madly and dipping down for one more kiss before he lets Louis go, spins him back around and pats his bum at he walks past him to the door. “Thank you, baby.”

Louis can hear the self-satisfied grin in Harry’s tone, and he shakes his head, the smile on his face doing little to convince anybody that he’s actually upset. He walks to his closet, pulling out a pair of jeans and a hoodie and slipping them on along with a pair of Nike socks.

By the time he’s walked out of his room and entered the dining area, Harry’s already got Xavier propped on his hip, dressed in a new outfit, and eggs cooking over the stove.

Louis smiles, walks over to the pair and ruffles the toddler’s hair, kissing his forehead. “Hi baby.”

The toddler grins, reaching out for Louis and smiling brighter when his request is granted. “Hi Daddy,” the boy replies, nuzzling his head happily under Louis’s neck.

Louis squeezes the boy’s body softly against him, walking closer to Harry and peering over his shoulder. “Smells good,” he praises, sticking himself to Harry’s side with Xavier on his opposite hip.

“Thanks love,” he dips down and pecks Louis’s mouth with his own, “Mind getting the milk out?”

Louis nods, walking towards the fridge and pulling out the jug, grabbing Xavier’s sippy cup out of the cupboard and twisting off the cap as well. He smiles down at the boy. “Want some milk baby?”

Xavier grins, throwing his hands out happily, looking eagerly between his fathers. “Yeah Daddy!”

-

Harry visits Louis’s classroom an hour after lunch has finished, when the kids are in the middle of a craft, walking right up to Louis’s desk and taking a seat in his swivel chair.

  
Louis sends him a quick indulgent smile from where he’s squatting down, helping a little girl with black hair and a pink bow glue the red gem she holds in her tiny fingers onto the popsicle stick frame. He stands back up when he’s done, praising the girls work and walking back to his desk.

Louis smiles at the man, raising an amused eyebrow at where Harry’s playing with a pencil, trying to get it to stand up with his tongue poked out in complete concentration. “Whatcha doin?”

Harry pouts, letting the pencil drop for the seventh time since Louis has shown up at his side and looking at it like it’s offended him. “It won’t stand up,” he furrows his eyebrows at it, like that’ll help.

Louis laughs, picking up the pencil and putting it back in the holder. “What are you doing here babe?”  
  


Harry beams at the endearment but doesn’t comment on it, instead standing up so Louis can take his place and sitting on the edge of the desk. “Have a question,” Harry starts.

Louis raises an eyebrow, silently telling the man to go on.

“How do you feel about helping out at the zoo?”

Louis contemplates it, a serious expression on his face, eyebrows pinched and all. “Well,” he starts, “I’m quite fond of my position right now, but I could see myself as a zookeeper, yeah.”

Harry makes an abrupt sound, something between that of abrupt amusement and surprise. “No, Lou--” he’s shaking his head, trying his best not to erupt into a fit of giggles. Louis is just grinning at him, “I mean like - with a class? Chaperone. The year threes are supposed to go the week after next, and we still need another supervisor.”

“And how, pray tell, am I supposed to watch a group of rowdy eight-year olds run around in front of caged monkeys and gorillas when I already have a group of rowdy seven-year olds who I have to tend to all day?”

  
Harry grins. “That, my darling, is already taken care of. Got a list of subs lined up in my office already. So…?”  
  


Louis sighs, leaning back in his chair and doing a quick sweep of his eyes over the year twos in front of him, making sure they’re all still on track with the task at hand and looking back at Harry. “I guess…” he drawls, chin up like it’s such a burden to agree to such a thing, when in reality he’s over-joyed at the prospect of a day off, “I could move my schedule around.”

Harry smiles wildly at him, jumping up from the desk and crowding Louis’s space, leaning in for a kiss.

Right as his lips connect with Louis’s mouth however, there’s a chorus of ‘ _ewwww_ ’s erupting from behind them and Louis pushes Harry back teasingly. “Ugh- _yuck_. Harold, there are youthful eyes around, mustn’t deprave them off their innocence and all that.” He waves a dismissive hand to finish his thought off for him and Harry just smirks, pulling Louis into a sloppy, over-exaggerated kiss.

The class continues to exclaim their disgust at two adults _kissing_ (oh, how the world’s coming to an end) and Louis eventually pushes him away, swatting his bum as he walks and telling the man to actually get some work done for once in his life. Harry leaves grinning, and Louis’s attention is back on his class, exclaiming a, “ _No David, you don’t put glue in Sarah’s hair!”_ as he rushes over to help the poor girl.

-

Harry had also insisted, _insisted_ , that Louis let him make dinner that night, which is why they’re pulling up to the curb to Harry’s house after school has been let out, a place Louis’s only been once, and, admittedly, does not have fond memories of.

Xavier is out of the car lightning fast (well, lightning fast _after_ he’d been set on the sidewalk by Harry, since he still isn't big enough to climb in and out of his car seat by himself) and sprinting up to the door, throwing it open with haste and grinning madly as he disappears into the house.

Louis is a little slower, taking his time to study his surroundings and cautiously walking through the threshold. The first thing he spots when he enters, other than Xavier throwing a basket of toys haphazardly onto the floor in front of the telly with all the enthusiasm a four-year-old can have, is the couch.

The large, large gray couch, the one that has forever been engraved in his mind as the place Harry momentarily, nearly broke his heart. Understandably, his steps falter and he comes to a standstill in the open entry way, staring at the furniture with his mind racing before he can rationalize with himself.

He thinks of Harry’s birthday before he can stop himself, of the excitement of doing something nice for the man, driving to his house with the whole day planned. He thinks of walking up to the door, feeling like something was off. He remembers smiling into the open doorway only to be faced with a naked pretty-much-stranger, and a naked and hard Harry sitting on that couch. He remembers feeling betrayed, losing almost all control over himself and using what little he had left to keep himself from breaking down right there. He remembers the humiliation, balling his eyes out all the way home and narrowly missing a head-on collision due to his irrational state; remembers the weeks after, remembers--

“ _Hey_.”

Louis’s pulled out of his trance by a hand resting gently on his shoulder, the click of the front door swinging shut sounding in the distance of his brain. He can feel Harry’s presence behind him, the way the man is pressed up against his back and wrapping his long arms around his torso securely. Harry’s lips move the back of Louis’s neck tactilely, ducking to kiss the skin softly, sucking love bites into the space under the lowest part of Louis’s hairline.

It’s not sensual or sexual, the way Harry kisses him. It’s reassuring. How Harry breathes him in and moves his tongue languidly, like they have all the time in the world. “Only you, Lou,” he whispers softly, like any louder would break the bubble they’ve found themselves in.

Louis nods softly, twisting himself around in Harry’s grip and looking up into the man’s deep green, _green_ eyes that are surrounded by specs of gold and hazel. He smiles, fluttering his eyes shut tiredly as Harry leans down to kiss his forehead, mirroring Louis’s own soft smile.

Harry releases him carefully, reaching to intertwine their hands and squeezing once for unspoken encouragement before he steps back, giving him some space and putting the keys on the side table before walking past the couch and into the open concept kitchen silently, with purpose.

It’s a beautiful kitchen, parallel to the rest of Harry’s home in that aspect.

Off to one side (the left) is the counter with granite finishing covering the surface top. There’s a stove-oven combination in the middle, coupled with an overhead hood and a tiled backsplash that ranges in tones from white and opaque tan to an ocean blue. There’s a double sink next to it, and on the other side is a built-in cutting board, next to that a dishwasher.

An island fills the space in the center of the room, matching granite to the counter and a pot rack is hung above it. There’s containers filled with flour and sugar and oats lined up neatly in the middle and the generic spices - salt and pepper - layed out next to it.

Off to the far right is the dining table, lit up beautifully by the modernized chandelier (multiple glass bulbs suspended from the ceiling with LED lights filling them) that hangs above it. The table is long, a dark wood with thick oak legs and a matching bench on the closest side, chairs surrounding the others.

The rest of the kitchen is decorated as well, each tiny detail adding to the awe of the space, and Louis’s pretty sure he’s seen a picture of something just like it in a magazine. It’s stunning, there’s no other word for it, and it looks like a chef’s dream. If cooking was a strong suit of Louis’s, he’s sure he’d spend all his time in here. As it is though, he’s not, can barely make eggs every morning to feed him and his toddler, so he’ll leave that job to Harry, thanks.

Harry’s watching him in amusement and Louis blushes at the attention, continuing to look around and admire. Just as soon as he’s finished ogling the room, Xavier is barreling into the kitchen, a wild mess of curls, and ramming right into Louis’s leg with an _oof_. He grips Louis’s thigh firmly, keeping himself steady, and beams up at his father, jumping up and down excitedly.

“Daddy! Daddy! Wanna show you my room please!” He looks so excited and Louis can't help to grin back, rubbing his boy’s back.

He looks up and locks eyes with Harry, quirking an eyebrow. “Room?”

Harry looks proper bashful, and Louis thinks he will probably never get over how much he likes it when the man blushes like that. “Erm, I wasn’t using the upstairs office? So. I thought - he could?”

Louis just chuckles, shaking his head amusedly and looking back down at his boy. “C’mon babe.”

The toddler grabs his hand eagerly and pulls him out of the room and towards the stairs as Harry starts on dinner, rambling on about everything he’s going to how Louis.

-

They come back down more than half an hour later once Xavier has enthusiastically finished describing every single thing in his room (yes _everything_ ), and Louis has to say he’s impressed. Harry’s always had a knack for interior design and Xavier’s room is just more proof of that, along with the kitchen, that Louis just knows Harry helped design, probably renovated as soon as he moved in at the beginning of the school year.

He leaves Xavier to continue playing with some of his dolls and action figures on the fluffy carpet in the living room and walks back into the kitchen, sauntering up to the man at the stove who currently holds a wooden spoon in his right hand, stirring the contents of whatever’s in the pot.

He rests his head in the space between Harry’s shoulder blades and Harry continues cooking, stirring the pasta in the bowl and smiling softly at Louis’s presence. Louis hums into the material of Harry’s work shirt, sighing out a soft, content, “Hi.”

Harry wraps his free arm back behind him, twisting it only slightly awkwardly to place on Louis’s back and rubbing soft circles into his t-shirt. “Hi baby,” he smiles at Louis before turning back around and focusing on the food again, stirring it and adding occasional seasoning.

A couple minutes later, after they’ve stood in the comfortable and peaceful silence for a couple minutes, save for the little action noises Xavier is making in the other room, and Harry has turned off the stove, he announces the food is ready.

It’s a simple dish, just the standard Cavatappi pasta that everyone recognizes and red marinera sauce topped with parmesan cheese, but it smells heavenly and tastes even more amazing.

They end up eating in the living room on the large L-shaped couch because Xavier had convinced Harry to let them (though, really, it hadn't taken much for the man to cave), and they agreed to switch on a movie on the large plasma screen television that Harry had sitting on the media console in front of the couch. They decide on Polar Express, even though it’s late-March, because, “ _It’s always Christmas movie season Lou_ ,” and, “ _Yeah daddy! Always Christmas!”_.

Xavier is out by the time the two boys and girl on the screen are at the North Pole, and Louis holds him in his lap, snuggled into Harry’s himself.

Xavier’s jostled awake when Louis attempts to pick him up after the credits have rolled, and the boy immediately starts exhaustedly begging to stay the night at Harry’s, completely put out at the idea of having to leave the comfort of the house.

Louis agrees when he thinks Xavier might actually be close to having a fit about this, and Xavier is easy to be tucked in once he’s gotten his way, out like a light almost as quickly as his head hits the pillow and his fathers have kissed him goodnight.

They make their way to Harry’s room next, down the hallway, and Harry watches quietly as Louis looks around the space, taking in all the details; the big king-sized bed with royal red bedsheets and a deep, fluffy, dark brown comforter, the dark wood bed posts that frame the mattress, the door off to the side that leads to a bathroom and a double closet.

Louis’s eyes flicker to the dresser up against the wall last, and he’s immediately drawn to the pictures that sit in frames on top of it. He walks closer slowly, head tilted at each image, and his eyes linger on a smaller picture first, tucked away in a thin wooden frame. There’s two people in it, a man and a woman, and one is Harry, in his University years, probably nineteen or twenty. He’s dressed in an olive Calvin Klein sweatshirt, a color that’s close to the shade of his eyes, just duller, and there’s a matching scarf in his hair to hold backs the curls. The woman next to him has the same eyes, framed by thin black eyeline and platinum purple hair. She has the same smile as Harry, just in a different variation, and Louis remembers when it was taken because he’s the one holding the camera.

“She misses you ya know,” Harry whispers from behind him, and Louis turns around lazily, smiling softly at Harry in a way that Harry knows means Louis feels the same.

He lets his eyes flick away from the picture of Harry and his sister, instead settling on a few others of Harry through the years. Harry as a toddler, Harry in secondary school, one of Harry, Zayn, Liam, and Niall (one Louis took as well).

The last one is of two people, a man and woman again, standing with bright smiles as they grin at the camera. The man is dressed in a black suit and the woman in a bridal dress, veil pulled back over her professionally styled hair and a bouquet of flowers in her hands. She has the same smile as Harry and Gemma too, just a little more worn to prove what she’s been through and a little brighter in the moment with what Louis can only assume is complete bliss.

Louis smiles softly at the photo, lifting a finger and rubbing it over the glass of the frame, wiping off some of the dust that has begun to settle on it. “They finally got married huh?” he muses, looking at Anne and Robin in the frame, imagining the moment as best as he can since he never got to live through it.

Harry can hear how Louis’s voice is scratchy, rough with emotion, and he steps forward carefully, reaching an arm out to the smaller man and resting it supportively on his shoulder. “Lou--”

Louis takes a sharp breath, inhaling through his nose and he sets the frame back down, nodding softly, squeezing his eyes shut and willing himself not to cry. “I know, I know. It’s just… we missed out on so much ya know?”

He sniffles as quietly as he can manage and Harry nods too. He does know, better than anybody else. He closes the rest of the space between them and turns Louis, pulls him to his chest and kissing the top of his head. “I know baby.”

Louis nuzzles his head into Harry’s shirt, searching for comfort in the fabric of the jumper and finding it in the way he can hear Harry’s heartbeat through his chest. They stand together for a couple of fleeting moments, silent, listening to the sounds of their breathing and the wind blowing by outside.

Harry pulls back when Louis isn't gripping him so hard, looking down at the man. “Let’s go to bed now love, yeah?” He accents it with a kiss to Louis’s forehead and the man nods tiredly, letting his eyes flutter shut in Harry’s hold.

“Yeah.”

**_xxvii._ **

Liam and Maya have been engaged for months.

They’ve been engaged for months, except they neglected to plan until _now_.

Which like, is fine. They’ve been busy, the start of the new school year filled out all their free time, and they had bigger priorities. They decided to just wait, revel in the feeling of having a fiancé for a little while.

And eventually, a couple months in, when Maya had a small panic attack about planning on a day when she thought about it a little too much, Liam had promised her that he would take care of it. Her father (who had always lived er, _comfortably_ ) had already said he would be paying for anything and everything, so Liam claimed it was the least he could do. Had said the groom should have to have responsibilities too; it shouldn’t just be up to the bride.

So like, that’s great. It made Maya ecstatic and she didn’t stress anymore.

Liam was planning the wedding. Liam was planning the wedding, but he didn’t start until very, very recently (as in, this morning when he called Louis franticly, asking for help) and Louis has since learned that ‘help’ translates to him plotting an entire wedding for two coworkers slash two of his closest friends as a year two teacher - _not_ a professional wedding planner - by himself, Liam giving occasional input.

Liam’s been at the flat since thirty minutes after he hung up on Louis, and five hours in, they’re alone, Harry having taken Xavier for the day to give Louis some free time, sprawled over Louis’s living room with laptops glowing and magazines open and papers lying everywhere.

Maya and Liam had already set the date - June 13th \- and Louis had just finished a conversation with the florist from the boutique down the street, placing the rather large order for every flower that Maya had requested. He’d already gotten the list of guests - 115 people - from Liam that morning and Liam had informed him that Maya had decided that she wanted to design the invitations, just to give her the information once they had it.

Louis was currently scanning through various sites, all future venues for the wedding site, and he was trying to decide between Searcys at The Gherkin, a more modern wedding venue in London that has a glass dome and an incredible view of the skyline, and Dartmouth House, a more traditional venue with beautiful architecture and a courtyard to hold the ceremony.

They were both polar opposites in their styles, but Louis loved them both, thought they were both the perfect combination of elegant and contemporary. They both had open reservations for a wedding on both days, and Liam had seemed incapable to choose when Louis asked his opinion on which stuck out to him more, but that was to be expected anyway, so Louis booked a tour with both of them.

The next thing Louis conquered was catering and desert, setting up a cake testing for later in the week for both Liam and Maya to attend. Both the venues that Louis was trying to decide between had catering included in the wedding package they offered, which meant Louis didn’t have to plan that either, and instead he directed his attention to a photographer and entertainment for the night.

It turned out Liam had been planning at least _one_ part of his wedding since he was thirteen, which was which band would play, and he had been quick to explain the elaborate (and admittedly, boring but amusing) explanation of just _why_ Sondre Lerche and his band (someone Louis had never heard of until Liam played one of their songs for him; they had nice voices, Louis admits) had to play at the wedding. So Louis booked them. (Thank goodness for Maya’s father paying for all the arrangements, because they did not come cheap.)

He was also able to check several other things off the list - bridesmaids (Gigi, Ally, and Maya’s childhood friends Sarah and Ivory), the wedding dress, a photographer (the same one Maya’s brother had used in his own wedding), and a makeup artist for the day of - that Maya had already taken care of.

Still, of the few things that Louis had covered, it took up the entirety of the day and by the time Louis was getting off the phone with the florist for the second time that day, Liam was packing up and the door to the flat was being unlocked, muffled voices on the other side and a happy but exhausted toddler being carried through it in Harry’s arms.

-

The following Thursday brought attending the cake testing, Louis following Liam and Maya into the small but cozy parlor. They tasted at least ten different flavors, and an hour later they were walking back out with an order of a four-tier red velvet cake, coated in cream cheese frosting and iced-flowers to decorate the sides.

-

Both visits to the future wedding venues were that Saturday, and Liam, Harry, Niall, Zayn, and Louis all went together. Maya had felt comfortable enough to allow Liam to pick whichever venue stood out to him (a brave placement of trust in Louis’s opinion), and they all met at the first venue - the Dartmouth House - in separate cars.

It was even more stunning in person and Louis was in awe as he climbed out of the car.

They were met by an employee at the door, a kind middle-aged woman who gave them the quick and extensive history of the building and proceeded to tour them around the space.

She brought them through several places - the ballroom that would house the reception, the courtyard where the ceremony would be held, and the grand staircase for the photographer to get some shots - and answered all of the questions the men had.

Each room was more beautiful than the last and Louis loved it. Every wall held a piece of history and each room had a story. The chandeliers that lit the dining hall were massive and the drapes that covered the floor to ceiling windows were gorgeous, intricately sewn. The outdoor courtyard showed off the brilliant architecture of the structure and it was decorated beautifully in landscaping.

It was the perfect amount of elegance and it screamed sophisticated. Louis could easily imagine the space filled with laughter and bright smiles, a blissful couple dancing together in the center of the floor, showing off their love for their closest to see. He could imagine little kids running around in tiny tuxes and yellow flower-girl dresses, letting out little screams and giggles of raucous laughter, making memories in the building that would last a lifetime.

Louis wanted to get married here, he realized at some point, and it hit him like a truck, because it also meant he wanted to get _married_.

Liam, however, did not agree, or at least he wasn’t sure. It was all very traditional, and Liam was a man who tended to gravitate towards modernized things (another reason why Louis chose the Searcys as a secondary option). They thanked the lady extensively at the end of the tour, walking back out the large doors that held the entrance, and making their way back to their own cars.

Their next stop was the second venue, Searcys at The Gherkin, and it was equally as stunning.

The view was extravagant, and the sun was just beginning to set as the young man who had been assigned the job of touring them around led them to the top floor. The skyline could be seen from almost any angle in the room and it was immaculate, the way the sun hit the buildings and the lights lit up the street below. You could see the city for miles and the sky had a pink orange hue like it was foreshadowing the view that would come in June.

The space was beautiful, a dome of triangular glass pieces filling the ceiling and white-clothed tables positioned neatly around the space. There was a bar off to one side of the room and it was the perfect space for a wedding, both to hold a ceremony and reception.

Liam agreed, and Louis could see how excited he was by the smile that was on his face. He looked the same as Louis imagines he looked back at the Dartmouth House, and he knows Liam can see him marrying the love of his life here, officially starting the rest of his life.

It kinda looked like the man was going to cry when he was telling the employee, that, yes, they would be booking the space, and Louis was tempted to take the piss, but he just couldn’t bring himself to. Liam looked so _happy_ , was the thing, and his best mate was getting fucking _married_.

-

All that was left to do on Liam’s (Louis’s) side of the planning was to pick the best men, hire an officiant, and reserve the tuxes for the groom and the wedding party.

Louis found an official to marry the couple after a few days of searching and the quest for tuxes for the five of them was already in the works.

The best men part of that list had already been checked off however, because Liam had brought them to a lavish steak restaurant the other day, joking with all four of the men the whole meal and laughing their arses off while they reminisced on childhood stories. Once the bill had been payed - by Liam who had insisted because the meal was a gift for the five of them - Liam had gotten all serious, looking at each of the men and popping the question.

He gave a small speech about how Niall, Zayn, Louis, and Harry had all been the biggest and most constant part of his life since before he could remember, how they were four of the most important people he cared about, and how he refused to choose between any of them; how he wanted all of them standing up there on the day he married the woman he was going to spend the rest of his life with.

He was a little teary-eyed by the end of the speech, and Louis had been just _itching_ to take the piss yet again, but he was too busy wiping his own eyes while the five of them pretended they weren’t crying in the middle of a five-star restaurant in the heart of London. They _weren't_.

(They so, _so_ were. Louis doesn’t think he gives a shit.)

They said yes, of course.

**_xxviii._ **

It was a, surprisingly, beautiful day the following Tuesday when Louis was wrangling the third years into lines to climb onto the bus. He had dropped Xavier off with Niall already, who had offered to watch him for the twenty minutes Louis would need to drop him off early.

Xavier had been ecstatic about getting to spend some time with Uncle Niall, throwing himself into the man’s arms as soon as Louis has set him down in the doorway to the classroom.

They were supposed to be pulling out of the parking lot in twenty minutes in order to make it to the zoo on time and Louis was very thankful that it _did_ happen to be one of the sunny days in London, because the kids were running circles around him, refusing to listen to any instructions they were given.

The other three chaperons that had already arrived seemed just as helpless as him, trying to wrangle the eight-year-olds into one spot for more than seven seconds. It wasn’t working.

Just as Louis was pulling one child away from another, there was a loud voice coming from the front of bus, gaining the attention off all the over-excited kids and stilling their movements. Thank fuck.

Harry was the culprit of it, giving the instructions to all of the kids to get in pairs and start filing onto the bus or they weren’t going to get to go at all (Louis’s pretty sure that wasn’t really up to Harry, but he had no objections with a little white lie). The kids were quick to scatter into groups of two or three after that, climbing the steep metal steps into the vehicle quickly and sitting down in the brown leather seats next to their friends.

They were pulling out of the parking lot within the next fifteen minutes, after a head count had been done twice, and a hired bus driver was directing the vehicle onto the main road soon after that.

-

The bus had pulled into the car park a full half an hour later, after a car ride of screaming children and mischievous little boys and girls who kept trying to climb out of their seats.

Each of the chaperones - there were eight of them, not including Louis, the other four having shown up with Harry before they left - were given a group, around six or seven kids, and instructions to meet at the park at eleven for lunch.

Louis was waiting around to talk to Harry, since he was somehow the only one not assigned to any kids, and the curly-headed man walked to him a few minutes later, after instructing most of the other groups and the parents that had volunteered to chaperone that they could get started on their exploring.

Louis raised an eyebrow at the man, who was wearing a bright grin. “Where’s my group?”  
  


Harry’s grin brightened even more, as if that was possible, and his eyes flickered a little as he stared at Louis. “You don’t have one,” he declared, excitement not dwindling one bit.

Louis furrowed his eyebrows. “Then… what am I doing here?”  
  


“You’re helping with my group,” he chirped, beaming at Louis with mischief in his eyes. He was adorable, really.

Louis rested his hands on his hips, smirking up at Harry. “So I’ve just come around to be entertainment now, have I? I feel used, Styles, _used_.”

Harry just giggles (yes, _giggles_ \- it’s all the confirmation Louis needs to prove that Harry really is still a child, even after being Big and Bad and scoring the position as head of a primary school fresh out of graduating with his doctorate) softly, closing the space between him and Louis and looping a long arm through Louis’s, where it was still sat on his hip.

“C’mon Lou, it’ll be fun,” he adds, in such an excited voice that Louis can’t help but to comply, letting Harry pull his smaller body along with him while he called the other little seven and eight-year-olds standing around them to follow.

-

They were the last group to meet back up at the designated picnic tables the zoo had set up for the group, the rest of the chaperones already grabbing lunch sacks out of a blue they had stashed the food in for the morning. Harry had decided he wanted to see the penguins again - after having already covered them _twice_ , along with the elephants, giraffes, various reptiles, insects, and birds, and chimpanzees (Louis didn’t particularly mind the last one; he’s always had a bit of a soft spot monkeys and those in relation to them) - and it hadn’t been hard for the principal to convince the third years, adventurous as they are, that missing a small part of lunch was an equivalent price to pay to be able to see _flightless birds_ another time.

The children ran off as soon as they arrived back at the tables, eager to fill their stomachs and talk with their friends, and Louis was quick to grab his lunch and sit at an empty picnic table, starving after the morning of walking that was combined with rambunctious juveniles. They had an hour to play in the park and finish their meals before they would go back to exploring the park and Louis was in the middle of taking his first bite when something tapped him on his shoulder.

He huffed, setting the burrito he had brought down and spun to face the nuisance, face softening slightly when he saw it was Harry and not a child asking for help opening their juice or summat (Louis would have still been happy to oblige if that had been the case, but he would’ve been a tad more irritated about having to wait to eat when everybody else has already started).

Harry gave him a shy smile, obviously aware of the fact that he was keeping Louis from starting his meal. “Can we walk?”

Louis looks back and forth between Harry and his meal yearningly, at an inner confliction. “Can I bring my food?”

“Course, wouldn’t want to deprive you or anything Lou.” Louis knows he’s just being a cheeky arse, if the amused smirk he’s wearing is anything to go by, but he can't help to be relieved, and he’ll definitely have to talk to Niall about how much the leprechaun’s love (or _adoration_ , really) for food is rubbing off on him.

Louis starts wrapping up his sandwich, grabbing his water bottle in his hand and standing up from the bench, looking around at the children that are either eating with their friends or running around in the open grass. He raises an eyebrow. “What about our group?”

“Janine already said she could watch them for a little bit.” He shrugs, and he looks so proud of himself for already thinking of this. Louis is hopelessly endeared.  
  
Louis smirks cheekily, falling in step with Harry’s long legs as they walk away from the picnic tables. “Got them wrapped around your finger, don’t ya Styles?”

-

They walked in relative silence while Harry led them away from the park and Louis took periodic bites of his sandwich. At one point Harry had slipped his hand in between Louis’s and they walked like that, a unspoken agreement that they both felt reassured holding onto each other, even in the simplest ways.  
  


It got quieter the further away they went, Harry leading them down what seemed to Louis to be random paths, walking by an assortment of animals, some they had already seen and some they hadn't.

Harry is uncharacteristically quiet, Louis notices, and he only speaks up once they’re alone, save for a family or two passing, having found their way to one of the habitats that has a small, man-made waterfall flowing into its enclosure. The sound of the water hitting the surface and being engulfed underneath makes for quite a peaceful white noise, Louis thinks.

Harry seems like he’s off in his own world entirely, deep in thought, and he spares a glance at a family of four; a mother, father, and two children: a girl and a boy.

“Have you ever thought about having another?” he asks, in a voice that almost seems spacy.

Louis looks at the man holding his hand inquisitively, thinking carefully as to how to respond because at this point, he’s not really sure of what Harry’s expecting the answer to be. He decides to go with honest.

“I wouldn’t mind it,” he shrugs, drawing out the words carefully, watching as the little girl Harry had been studying grabs her father’s hand in her own and giggles; he turns his neck to watch as a turtle breaks the surface of the water in the habitat next to him.

He feels Harry’s body whip around, and he turns his head to meet Harry’s shocked stare. “ _Really??_ ” He looks completely startled, like that hadn't at all been the answer he was expecting, and his eyes are wide, almost comically so, but he doesn’t look absolutely petrified at the idea, so Louis takes that as a good sign.

Louis shrugs, meeting Harry’s eyes before looking back over the enclosed animals to his right, says offhandedly, “I mean, yeah, maybe in a couple years, I guess. Like, obviously I’ve never had time to seriously contemplate it with Xavier, but. I dunno. I’ve always wanted to give him a sibling, and things have changed since then, so.” _You’re back now_ , he doesn’t say, _You’re why_.

That’s a whole different conversation - the idea that Louis maybe, possibly, probably wants another child someday, one with _Harry_ , and Harry’s comment had been innocent enough; Louis guesses suggesting that the only person he can possibly imagine having another baby with would be Harry, would probably be a _little_ too much right now.

They walk in silence again, but the small smile that Harry probably thinks he’s doing a good job of hiding right now is answer enough for Louis. By the time Louis has finished his wrap and water and thrown it away in a trash bin, they’ve walked through another biome of enclosures, taking the path towards all the safari animals.

Louis sees all the chimpanzees and monkeys and orangutans in the distance where the wide path bends, and he smiles widely for getting to see them again, this time without having to make sure no children fall into an enclosure. That would’ve been bad, yes.

Harry’s been raking his eyes over all the scenery, carefully studying each detail - the tourists, the animals, the habitats, the signs - something he usually only does when he’s being extra thoughtful. “How’re the girls?” He blurts as they’re passing a small group of mums and a handful of little girls and boys between them.

Louis raises an eyebrow at the abrupt conversation topic, but he shakes his head anyway and clears it, deciding what all to tell the man. “Lottie’s in Uni,” he starts, “which you know. And the twins are just getting through year ten, proper teenagers now. They’re doing good I think, haven’t been back in a little while but Lottie comes by every so often from school, sees Zee. Haven’t seen Mark since last July, before school started. He's been busy with the twins though, so.”

His mind wanders from there and he swallows hard, eyes stinging just a little bit as he talks about them, and he feels Harry squeeze his hand in comfort, like he’s reminding him that he’s here now. “I miss her,” Louis adds hoarsely.

“I know Lou, I know baby.” He squeezes Louis’s hand again and his voice isn't pitiful, which Louis is grateful for. It’s soft, gentle, and Louis is grateful for that too; that he _does_ know.

He clears his throat, blinking the tears away and looks to the path in front of them. “And Gemma?” He asks.

Harry looks over and smiles at him, the little smile he gets whenever he talks about his family. “She’s great. Been writing a little for a couple different places, and she’s been traveling all over. She’s still with Michal, you know. I think he’s going to propose soon, too. He always gets nervous whenever someone mentions rings around him, blushing and allat, so.” Louis smiles up at Harry, the little glow on his cheeks from the cool air hitting his pale skin, and the way his eyes shine a bright green in the sunlight. “Mum’s doing good too. Her and Robin are proper smitten, can’t seem to pull them apart but she’s happy. They miss you, you know. A lot. Can’t wait to meet Zee either.”

Louis hums, squeezing Harry’s hand in his and leaning into them as they pass the zebra enclosure, a mother and her colt in the pasture. “I miss them too,” he says softly. 

They keep walking and Louis’s pretty sure they’re getting close to needing to head back, but he figures another twenty minutes won’t hurt. And just because they’re already asking maybe slightly invasive questions, he adds, “Did you see anyone in Uni after we… left?”

He knows it’s a bit personal and probably a question that’s just asking for a fight; that they probably shouldn’t cover these topics, at least right now, but it’s been gnawing away at him since February. He can feel Harry stiffen slightly next to him, his grip on his hand tightening, and he half expects him not to answer, to deflect it and talk about the hippos or something next to them instead. He doesn’t.

“Uhm,” he clears his throat, coughing. “Sort of,” he says, voice straining just a bit. “I didn’t have any real relationships I suppose. Just uhm, just the flings. With, er, Jeff, and such. So. Yeah.”

Louis nods, squeezing Harry’s hand again as they round the turn to another path, one that he knows leads back to the picnic tables. “What about you?”

Louis grins amusedly at Harry, eyes twinkling which gains a very confused look from the man, and he looks back at all the shops that line the road, the clearing with the park and tables visible in the distance. “Not much time for that when you have a child to take care of H.”

“Right,” Harry responds, words clipped, clearing his throat after, and when Louis looks back to him, he avoids his eyes, finding something on the ground rather interesting apparently. Louis furrows his eyebrows, biting his lip. “Hey. No. Haz. I didn’t mean it like that love. I’m joking with ya, yeah? Really babe.”

Harry nods, still not taking his eyes away from the ground and his grip on Louis’s hand loosens slightly. Louis stops their pace, close to the park where he can see some of the students and parents running around, rolling his eyes fondly at the man standing next to him and twisting around so they’re facing each other, fingers still intertwined. “Harry, look at me.”

Harry does, albeit slowly, making timid eye contact with Louis. Louis lifts his hands, cupping Harry’s face in them, and he smiles sweetly, rubbing a thumb soothingly across the soft skin of Harry's cheek.

“I mean it H, I was joking. I’m not mad okay? I wouldn’t have wanted to see anybody anyway, not in that way, and I’ve been perfectly happy just Xavier and me. I’m not upset with you babe yeah?”

Harry swallows, staring back at Louis like he refuses to hide away even though Louis knows he’s scared, and he nods slightly, fluttering his eyelids shut. Louis keeps looking at him, studying his face before leaning in and pressing his lips to Harry’s.

He melts into it immediately, body pressing against Louis’s, and Louis thinks if this is all he gets in life, it wouldn’t be half bad.

**_xxix._ **

Mid-April comes along with a cold front, a windy morning with rain pitter-pattering down on the window, clouds covering the sky. Louis is startled awake by cold feet pressing into his thighs and Xavier crawling underneath his covers with him. He groggily opens his arms for the boy to fall into, snuggling up to the toddler and letting him bury his head under Louis’s neck. Louis presses a small kiss to the boy’s hair, whispers, “Zee, what’s wrong babe?”

The toddler burrows deeper into his father, rubbing his cold feet across Louis’s bare skin and the man winces at the temperature but he keeps cuddling the boy. “Don’t feel good Daddy,” he croaks, wrapping the blanket around his tiny neck and trying to find safety in the warmth of it.

Louis frowns, lifting a hand up and out of his cocoon of blankets and pressing it to the boy’s forehead. He’s a little warm, but not burning enough to worry his father, so Louis just snuggles his boy closer to keep him warm and murmurs, “It’s alright Bub. Let’s go back to sleep love.”

When Louis wakes up a couple of hours later and the sun is actually up and in the sky - shining in through the windows around the raindrops that are trickling down the glass from the roof and drying on the surface - it’s to the toddler next to him burning up, tossing around and trying to find sleep begrudgingly.

Louis sleepily picks up his phone off the side table, careful not to wake the boy next to him, and dials the school, tells them Xavier’s sick and he has to take a sick day. He gets off the phone a few minutes later when Liam, having been the one to answer the phone, tells him to take his time with Xavier and that they’ll have a sub cover for him for however long he needs.

He climbs out of bed, purposefully not disturbing Xavier next to him and wraps the blankets up around the boy’s chin, snuggling him in and making sure he’s safely in the middle of the mattress. He pulls a hoodie over his torso and a pair of sweats over his thighs, padding into the kitchen and heating up the kettle while he thumbs through his messages.

When the whistle goes off, he pours the burning liquid into two cups, sipping out of one of the teas and carrying the other back into the bedroom. Xavier’s already awake, lying stretched out, covered in the thick comforter and the end sheet that Louis keeps on his bed. He doesn’t look too pleased to be awake and Louis can't blame him. His eyes look red rimmed like he hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep and his small curls are mussed over.

“Hi Bub,” Louis coos as he walks in, setting the teas on the side table and scooting in with the boy, sitting up against the headboard and pulling him into his lap, cradling Xavier against his chest like he used to do when the boy was younger and was feeling poorly.

“Don’t feel good Daddy,” the boy pouts, turning his face into Louis’s chest and fisting the fabric of Louis’s hoodie.

“I know love,” Louis assures, rubbing the boy’s back and reaching over with his free hand to grab the other tea. He put some Tylenol syrup in it, a trick he learned from his mum to mask the taste, and he holds it up to the boy’s lips. “Need you to drink this babe.”

The toddler turns his head away, eyebrows furrowing at the hot liquid in front of his face. “Don’t want it Daddy. Yucky.”

“You have to babe. It’ll help with your head Bub, I promise. Just drink some now, it’s not much Zee. Please?”

The toddler does, albeit in small uncertain sips, and as soon as its gone Louis sets it back on the table. The boy’s eyes are drooping, and Louis knows he’s about to knock out again anytime now. He carefully holds the boy against his chest, shuffling out of the bed and laying the four-year-old back down in the warmth of the comforter and sheets.

He kisses the boy’s forehead before pulling the blanket up further, wrapping him in it so he won’t get chilly and walks out of the room.

Louis grabs part of the large stack of papers he’s been meaning to mark for a couple days and sits down at the kitchen table, keen to get started with the little free time he’s going to have before Xavier wakes up again.

-

Louis manages to get a bit of work done while Xavier dozes fitfully, but when he wakes up a couple of hours later, he’s crabby and uncomfortable. The boy’s hungry, and Louis’s a little hesitant to give him anything too heavy, in the event his stomach decides to throw a fit, so he gives him some graham crackers and 7-Up, a weird combination but something that always helped him as a kid when he was feeling sickly.

His fever starts to climb again, though, so Louis bundles him up in blankets and settles him on the sofa with Frozen 2 playing on the telly, moving to clean up the small mess that had been left in the kitchen.

Xavier starts to get fussy sitting under all the blankets, whining that his throat’s bothering him again, and when Louis looks at the clock that’s sat on the wall, he sees that it’s been more than enough hours to give him another dose of Tylenol.

The toddler’s not too happy with having to take more of the bitter-cherry medicine again, especially without tea, but Louis promises it’ll help so the boy drinks it, nonetheless. Louis counts it as a win. By the end of the day, he’s exhausted. There are Kleenex scattered all over the flat and blankets strewn over different surfaces during different stages of Xavier’s fever (the fever still ever present).

He’s been doing a lot of sleeping all day, but the boy is still just as tired even before seven and Louis changes him into a new set of pajamas, throwing the old ones in the wash for when he’ll hopefully have time to run it later. He settles them into bed - his because he knows Xavier will just come crawling back into his bed in the middle of the night when his fever keeps him up - and reads to him until the toddler dozes off.

Louis doesn’t get much sleep, waking up every couple of hours to make sure Xavier’s warm enough and that he doesn’t need another dose of medicine and that his fever hasn’t worsened. By morning, though, it seems to have broken, and he knows that when the toddler wakes him up by jumping up and down on his torso and giggling hazily, that he’s already doing better, even though he’s still sniffling, and his throat is a little sore.

The day goes much like the one before, only that Xavier is slightly more of a nuisance because not only is he still not up to feeling his best, he has newfound energy that he’s liking to use - to Louis’s dismay - whenever he tries to give him more Tylenol or check his temperature.

Louis’s just as exhausted as he as the night before, if not more so from the lack of sleep, and he still needs to finish marking the large stack of papers he didn’t finish from yesterday, but Xavier’s bored, and Louis doesn’t quite know what to do with him. He hasn’t been fever-free long enough to take him out, and he doesn’t want him to over-exert himself with too much physical activity. They end up playing with his dolls on the floor in the living room for a bit, and Louis lets him convince him to play football for half an hour in the front yard, but by four o’clock, he’s out of ideas and Xavier’s getting whiny.

He gets the brilliant idea somewhere along the way to bake something (maybe not so brilliant because Xavier isn't exactly Gordon Ramsey and Louis isn't much better himself), and the kitchen is a war zone after they’ve put a batch of chocolate, chocolate-chip cookies into the oven. There’s flour and sugar covering the small expanse of the counters and he’s pretty sure he’s got chocolate somewhere in his hair. He’s entertaining the idea of how embarrassing it would be to be caught looking like such a mess when there’s a knock at the door.

He scoops Xavier up off the counter, setting him back on the floor and telling him to go sit back in the living room while he waits for the cookies to bake. Louis walks to the foyer, and he opens the door opens to none other than Harry standing there, a brown bag with what looks like could be soup inside, clutched in his right hand.

Louis is suddenly extremely aware of the fact that he must look an absolute disaster, dressed in yesterday’s Adidas joggers and a ratty old t-shirt, glasses on his nose instead of the usual contacts because it was just one more thing that he couldn’t bring himself to care about this morning.

Harry smiles softly at Louis and holds up a bag, says fondly, “Hey love, I brought soup. Figured Zee’s probably hungry if he’s feeling any better and I didn’t think it was a good idea to subject him to your cooking so soon.”

Louis makes an indignant squeak that Harry’s sure is supposed to be a protest, but he steps aside to let Harry in anyway.

“I’ll have you know,” Louis starts impishly, “that we made cookies, and the kitchen _hasn’t_ burned down yet. _Ha_.” He sticks out his tongue in an act of maturity, but Harry just takes it in stride.

“Smells good,” Harry comments as he looks Louis up and down. He reaches out and pushes Louis’s glasses up, says with a little smile, “You look cute.”

“Shut up,” Louis grumbles, blushing furiously as he tugs at the hem of his shirt. “I haven’t slept in two days and haven’t showered in even longer, and I still have fifty papers to grade.”

Harry grins and leans in to brush a kiss across his cheekbone, murmurs against his skin, “Well, regardless, you look lovely.”

He pulls back to see Louis’s reaction, noting the way his blush has deepened and he continues with a mischievous smirk. “Honestly. Sexy really. Could take you to the bedroom and ravish you right now Lou. I don’t know why--”

The rest of his words come out mumbled and incoherent when Louis clamps a hand over his mouth, cheeks flaming a deep red shade. “O _kay_ , that’s enough.” Harry just wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and grins.

“Papa?”

Harry and Louis both turn to see Xavier peeking around the corner. He’s, begrudgingly, in better shape than Louis is, having been given a hot bath this morning to help get rid of the last effects of the cold, and he’s wearing a bright smile at the sight of his other father.

“Hey baby,” Harry beams back, bending down to pick the boy up in his arms and kiss the mess of curls that is his hair, setting the soup down on the table that lies under the coat rack. “Heard you were sick, Bub. Proper trouble aren’t ya?”

He tickles Xavier lightly on the tummy and the boy giggles softly, burrowing his head into Harry’s chest and tucking his smile away. “No Papa,” he defends, resting his head contentedly on Harry’s shoulder and breathing deeply in and out through his nose, little spurts of air fanning over the side of Harry’s neck.

“I’ll believe it when I see it babe. Heard you were making cookies, save any for me?”

Xavier perks up at the mention of cookies and he bounces in Harry’s arms. “Yeah Papa!”

Harry presses a kiss to his head, smiling fondly at his boy. “Let’s go eat some yeah?”

The toddler nods, elated, and Louis starts to walk toward the kitchen with them, Harry trailing behind with a bouncing Xavier in his left arm.

“Hey.” Harry reaches out and cups Louis’s elbow, draws his attention back over to him. “Go grade your papers, I can watch him for a couple hours babe.”

And - Louis hadn't even thought of that as an option, he’s been doing this for so long by himself. It’s a crazy thing to realize, as least for Louis, and he wants to cry with gratitude.

“Thank you,” Louis breathes, and he only pauses long enough to give Harry a brief kiss before he’s padding off toward his bedroom, eager to catch a break.

-

Louis loses track of time, flying through the stack and marking the three most recent spelling quizzes the year twos had taken. He’s about three quarters of the way through it when he hears a tap on his bedroom door. He pauses, looking up from the stack of papers that’s sat on his lap where he’s cuddled in the bed, has to blink rapidly to clear his gaze. Harry is standing in the doorway with his hip propped up against the jamb.

“Hey, love,” he says softly. “Xavier’s asleep, I just tucked him in.”

“Oh. What?” Confusion settles over Louis. “What time is it?”

“Just after eight,” Harry supplies, and Louis realizes suddenly that it’s dark in the room.

“Well shit,” he laughs, then scrubs his hands over his face. Fuck, he’s tired. “You’ve been here ages H, you should have come and gotten me, I’d have taken over.”

“ ‘S alright love,” Harry murmurs as he finally steps into the room. “You needed the break yeah? I can take care of him too babe. It doesn’t have to all be on you.” He walks over to Louis’s bed and rubs a hand across Louis’s back, and Louis hums appreciatively and leans into him. “How about you take a bath?”

“Do I really smell that bad?” Louis questions self-consciously, furrowing his eyebrows and lifting the hem of his t-shirt up to sniff it.

Harry laughs. “No baby, you’re lovely. You look exhausted though and I think it might feel really nice ‘s all.” He looks so soft, standing here in Louis’s room, rubbing his hand soothingly down his back, and he’s missed him. Fuck, he’s missed him, even though it’s only been a couple days. Missed having his arms around him and missed seeing him with Xavier, just seeing his face really, and missed not having to do this on his own. He’s really fucking missed him, and it hasn’t even been four days. “Okay,” he replies softly.

So he does. Harry turns the warm water in the tub and waits for it to heat up, squirts bubbles into the surface like he did months ago for Louis. They sit in there for nearly an hour - until their skin is pruning - and Harry holds Louis. He runs the pads of his fingers along Louis’s bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and he presses kisses to the top of his head from where he sits behind him as Louis is resting in between his slotted thighs.

“I’m so tired,” Louis whispers out into the quiet room once Harry has stopped pressing kisses to his head. He rests his head back against Harry’s naked, warm chest, and Harry bends his neck so he can press a kiss to the underside of Louis’s jaw this time, hands folded down over Louis’s stomach.

“I know, love. Sit up please?”

Louis shuffles up will all the energy he can muster, hears the snick of a bottle opening, and then there are hands working shampoo in his hair. He moans happily as Harry’s fingers work over his scalp. It feels like heaven.

He doesn’t protest when Harry takes his time, working the soap into his hair, then cupping his hands in the water and pouring it over Louis’s head to rinse it out, making sure to steer clear of his eyes. He doesn’t argue when Harry pulls Louis back against him and wraps his arms around Louis’s chest and just holds him, humming quietly into his ear, either. He’s almost asleep by the time Harry rubs a hand over his bare stomach and murmurs, “Water’s getting cold. Let’s get you into bed, yeah?”

Louis just hums and lets Harry manhandle him out of the bath and into a towel. He watches through half-lidded eyes while Harry quickly dries himself off, then walks over so he can scrub Louis’s towel through his hair.

“Come on, babe.” Harry wraps his hands around Louis’s hips after he’s hung their towels up to dry and says softly, “Bedtime.”

He leads Louis out into the bedroom and sets him down on the bed while he picks out clothes for the two of them to slip on. Harry only grabs a pair of boxers for himself and brings another for Louis, slipping a large t-shirt over the smaller man’s head. He climbs into bed with the man, pulling the comforter over both of them and sighs as his back relaxes, all of the tension of the day leaving. Louis burrows into his chest immediately and sneaks a hand up his back so he can tangle his fingers in the damp curls at the base of his neck.

“Haz,” he mumbles, lips dragging against Harry’s skin. His tongue is thick and clumsy with sleep, but he slurs out, “You’re kinda perfect.”

He can feel Harry chuckle, the rumble of his chest and the soft breath fanning out over his skin, feels Harry press a kiss to the top of his head and whisper, “Go to sleep, love.”

He’s out within a minute.

**_xxx._ **

Louis has come to realize several things in the past couple weeks.

One: If he leaves marking papers until the last moment, Niall will usually cave and help him grade while they sit in front of the telly, sipping beers and devouring pizzas after Xavier’s been put to bed.

Two: You should always convince your best mates to start planning for their wedding as soon as their engaged - once the novelty of it has worn off - or you’ll be stuck planning their wedding months later (not that he really minded, honestly; he just likes to make a fuss, and hey, at least now he knows, so.)

And three: Life is a whole lot fucking easier when you’re not doing it alone.

And like, okay, it’s not like Louis didn’t _know_ that’s how life works, as a general rule, but he never really let himself think about it too much, never let himself dwell on what he was missing when he already had a beautiful little boy with chocolate curls and green eyes smiling up at him in his arms or learning to take his first steps. But now that he _has_ been allowed to entertain the idea, it’s just really fucking nice is all.  
  
It’s really fucking nice to wake up with a warm body holding you, long arms wrapped around your waist; it’s nice to not have to make breakfast every morning with your very limited culinary knowledge because somebody’s already there to do it; it’s nice to know that someone else cares and holds the same amount of love for your boy as you do. It’s nice to not be on your own, because although he would never, _ever_ admit it, Louis hates being alone.

He hates waking up in a cold bed, hates not having anyone to bring him soup when he’s feeling poorly; isn't particularly fond of being a single parent, because fuck - if he really thinks about it - it’s _hard_ , the only thing that has kept him going at some points having been the little grin on his boy’s face when he does something silly.

So when he wakes up a couple days later, lets himself really think about it, it just all kind of hits him. It hits him how Harry helps, how Harry’s always there, how much Xavier loves him, and how much he loves Harry. It hits him how easy everything feels, and it gives him butterflies in his stomach, but it doesn’t scare him, not as much as he expected it to.

It should probably feel like waves are crashing down on him when he lets himself finally admit it again, not just a passing thought this time like it has been before, but it doesn’t. It doesn’t feel like he’s suffocating, and it doesn’t feel like the world’s going to stop now that the little detail has been acknowledged. It’s not some big epiphany he’s having, not like when he realized the shy boy at the back of his sixth form classroom was more enamoring than the girl throwing herself at him, or that his mother was dying; it’s not life altering, just a little shocking is all. Nevertheless, he doesn’t think it needs to be said out loud yet, not with the way his stomach drops some at the thought, especially when he’s brought back to reality by hands wrapped around his waist, pulling him back to bed and mumbling out, “ _Five more minutes_ ,” into his neck.

-

The invitations for the wedding were officially mailed last week, which meant Liam and Maya both felt like celebrating. Maya had kicked him out (lovingly of course) for the night, telling him that the girls were coming over and they were going to have a night in - wine, rom-coms, and matching pajamas all included. Liam had been happy to oblige, kissing his fiancé goodbye and waving a hello slash goodbye to Gigi and Ally on his way out.

Maya had also offered to watch the boys for the night, which meant that Xavier and Bear were taken care of and in good hands. Louis had been going nonstop for the last month, give or take, what with planning a wedding, taking care of a four-year-old, and waking up at five forty-five five days a week to teach six and seven-year-olds, so he had been more than happy to agree when Liam called him that afternoon, inviting him out with the rest of lads.

The second that Louis had stepped into the club they were meeting at that night, Harry’s eyes were on him, watching his every movement with his jaw slack and his eyes darkening just that much.

Louis was only a little smug about it, swinging his hips a bit more while he made his way over to the table the rest of the lads were sitting at, a round booth towards the back, tucked away in a corner with a nice view of both the bar and the floor.

He slid into the space next to Harry, smirking at the man whose mouth was still hanging open and greeting the lads.

“Jesus Tommo, Haz looks like he’s about to jump you,” Liam had joked, adding a whistle, cracking both Niall and Zayn up when they all looked at the curly headed man.

Harry didn’t even seem embarrassed, just kept staring at Louis unabashedly, wrapping a possessive arm around his shoulders and pulling him into his side. He leaned over once the guys had gone back to their previous conversation, mouth right next to Louis’s ear, rasping out in a deep, slow drawl, “Look fucking gorgeous baby. Gonna take you apart tonight love.”

Louis barely suppressed a shudder, reaching his arm that wasn’t pressed up against Harry for the nearest shot on the tray that had been brought to their table, throwing it back and shaking his head while he ignored the bitter taste of the alcohol.

-

A couple hours later, Louis wasn’t tipsy, just pleasantly buzzed. He’d only had a couple shots and a Whiskey Sour, but he knew he was well on his way there. He’d gone back and forth between the booth and the dancefloor a couple times, Harry’s hands wrapping around his waist protectively every time somebody else’s hands got a little too close.

He was a steady presence behind Louis at all times, supporting him with an arm around his waist and a hand splayed across his stomach, or two hands on his waist, swaying with him to the bass that was blasting through the speakers on the wall, pouring over the crowd.

He was happy to oblige when Louis’s dancing had shifted from dirty to full-on grinding, hips snug to Louis’s ass, sucking love bites into the sweaty skin on the back of his neck, down his jawline and under where his hairline ended.

It was exactly what Louis needed, being able to let go after being keyed up for so long, knowing Harry was watching him like his next meal, making sure Louis could relax and not have to keep his guard up. He caught several glances from the lads to and from the floor, ones that were definitely smug mixed with the perfect amount of amused, obviously watching how Louis was all over Harry, no matter where they were: at the bar, in the booth, on the floor swaying next to sweaty bodies that were all holding alcohol in their hands.

It was a heady feeling for Louis, letting the alcohol give him a nice buzz while he pressed himself up against Harry, let Harry grind his rapidly hardening clothed cock against his clothed arse, let him keep a strong and sure grip on him, keep him standing up and safe. It was a feeling Louis hadn't experienced in years, not since Harry, and he missed it. Feeling like he was on a completely different plane, in between heaven and earth and could just let himself slip away, the only thing grounding him being the steady press of long, familiar fingers into his hips.

Harry seemed to understand though, whispering all the right things into Louis’s ear while they danced, letting Louis whine when he rubbed himself just right against Harry’s hips, taking away any more drinks so he could start sobering up.

Louis knew just by the way Harry held him that he understood, knew what Louis needed and was going to give it to him.

Harry brought him back off the dance floor a little under half an hour later, holding his hand securely as he led him back to the table. The lads were there again, back from wherever they had gone off to when Louis and Harry had disappeared, and they just watched as Harry gently manhandled Louis into the booth, held him close and put a grounding hand on his thigh, stroking up and down and only ever getting within a couple inches of where Louis wanted him so bad.

The guys only had a vague idea of what happened when Louis and Harry disappeared behind a bedroom door back in Uni, didn’t want too many details, but they did know enough to know that they were a little different; played a little more than most couples. They never asked, didn’t feel like it was important, but they learned what it looked like over the years; how Louis looked when he got all worked up, when only Harry knew had to deal with him.

It wasn’t something they did all that often, mostly when one of them was stressed and needed to just let go and blow off steam for a couple hours, but apparently that’s where they were headed tonight. Louis didn’t even realize how much he needed it until he had been a few drinks in, when he felt Harry behind him, the way his strong grip made Louis want to just fall into the headspace where he felt light and like he was floating, completely safe, and trusting Harry to take care of him.

The guys tried to include him in whatever they were talking about, asking his opinion on whatever the topic was, but they gave up when all he could do was hum to the umpteenth question they gave him, addressing Harry instead.

He was sure he looked like a right mess, sitting there completely useless to the conversation, sweat beading on his forehead and whining whenever Harry teased him, nuzzling his face into Harry’s neck and burrowing into his side.

Every time he thought he was controlling himself a little better, coming back down, Harry would do something, touch him in some way, and it would rile him right back up, keeping him on the edge but not enough to push him over.

Louis knew it was because Harry was being careful, not letting him slip when they were surrounded by so many people and couldn’t give him his undivided attention, but he didn’t _care_. He was so far gone, completely turned on and straining hard against his black skinnies, desperate for anything Harry would give him.

By the time the taxi was pulling up to Louis and Niall’s flat complex it was midnight, Liam thanking the cabbie and handing over a couple pounds, waving the man off. They had all decided earlier on crashing in Niall and Louis’s flats since Maya and the rest of the girls were staying at Liam’s for the night, and they stumbled through the parking lot, only the bright lights on the edge of the car park illuminating their paths.

Liam, Zayn, and Niall were all completely inebriated, having hit well past drunk hours ago, and everything they did was considered hilarious to the three of them, Zayn cackling when Niall smacked into one of the light posts. Liam had immediately smothered Niall, acting like an over-protective mum, the way he always did when he was pissed out of his mind, and Louis was sure he would’ve found it hysterically entertaining had his thoughts not already been preoccupied.

Louis’s flat was closer to the car park than Niall’s, and when they got to it, Harry waved the lads off, telling them he was going to stay at Louis’s. Zayn and Niall had found that hilarious as well, Zayn giving out an amused catcall and Niall shouting (slurring) something about using protection.

Louis barely had the awareness to stand up himself, relying on Harry to keep him balanced, otherwise he definitely would have flipped his best mates off. Liam pulled the other two with him, yelling a goodbye to both Harry and Louis, although only Harry could really respond, and he directed them back to Niall’s flat.

Harry unlocked the front door for them, letting Louis in first and following after, flipping the deadbolt back once they were both inside. Louis was all over him as soon as the lock clicked into place, holding onto Harry like a lifeline, whining high in his throat when Harry only kissed him back once and then pulled them apart, keeping a firm but gentle grip on his smaller frame.

Louis ducked in again, trying to capture his lips but was stopped for a second time, Harry looking down at him with a disapproving look, jumping right in apparently. “Nuh-uh love, don’t be greedy. Do you need to be punished already baby?”

Louis’s eyes widened, shaking his head vehemently, cock twitching is his pants just at the sound of Harry’s voice. “No. Don’t,” he protested, clinging to Harry’s jumper. Harry just hummed, indifferent like how he knew got Louis off like nothing else; having to earn his attention.

“Are you okay baby?” Harry asked sweetly, rubbing his hands across his shoulders to ground him.

Louis knew how to answer immediately, somehow able to discern between the unspoken things Harry was putting into the air better than being able to stand up on his own. “Yeah, ‘m good,” he promised, nodding his head. Harry had cut him off hours ago, when he realized what Louis was going to need when they got home, and the only thing clouding Louis’s mind now was the arousal, no alcohol left in his system to make him even slightly buzzed.

“ _Good boy_ ,” Harry cooed, slipping back into his role easily. “Go to the bedroom, strip everything besides your underwear and kneel by the end of the bed. Want you on your knees when I get in there yeah?”

Louis nodded vigorously, looking up with glassy eyes. He looked absolutely gorgeous, so gone for Harry, and the taller man pressed a quick kiss to the boy’s lips, letting his façade drop for another second before putting it right back up when he pulled back. “What are you waiting for Louis?” he snapped, giving the boy a stern look when he just stood there, looking at Harry dumbly with his eyes wide, not being able to take his concentration off Harry’s lips.

Louis nodded, turning around quickly and hurrying to the bedroom with as much speed as he could that wouldn’t count as sprinting. He was quick to strip, throwing his jumper and jeans off and folding them nicely, stacking them on the dresser like he knew Harry would want.

Harry busied himself in the kitchen once Louis disappeared, putting away the stack of dishes that were left in the sink and giving Louis enough time to finish his task, getting himself in the right headset to walk into that room, giving Louis enough time to fall into it too.

He walked in a little over ten minutes later, eyes immediately settling on Louis, kneeled on the floor with his hands clasped behind his back, in the textbook flawless position that he had perfected years ago, back in University when they just started playing. He was twitching a little, slightly restless, but Harry chalked that up to just the nerves of not having done this for so long rather than not listening.

He strided into the room, lifting a hand and gently holding Louis’s jaw in his fingers, angling his chin up towards him. The boy looked so gone already, pupils blown, and hair disheveled all over his forehead, sitting there just like Harry had asked. “ _Good boy_ ,” Harry praised, and Louis visibly keened at the words, fluttering his eyes shut. “Look so good sitting there baby.”

Louis whined high in his throat, doing his best to keep quiet and shifting a little while he tried to keep still. “What is it baby?” Harry asked sweetly, slightly condescendingly, just like Louis loved, keeping a hold on Louis’s chin and maintaining eye contact. That was important.

Louis just shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut and not moving other than that. “Words Louis,” Harry reprimanded tersely, drawing a sharp gasp out of the boy at the tone of his voice.

“Please,” the boy begged, “touch me. Please, need - need it. Harry. _Daddy_.” Louis writhed in Harry’s hold, and Harry could see the tent of his boxers from where he was, his own cock straining hard against his pants at the boy’s words. _Word_.

“Okay, okay baby,” he soothed, “Stand up for me. Can you do that?”  
  


The boy nodded and Harry made a noise of disapproval. “C-can Ha-Daddy, can.”

Harry nodded, letting the boy’s chin go and giving him space to stand up. He held his hands behind his back as he did so, and Harry wanted to reward him; he was being so _good_. He stood in front of Louis, pressing a kiss to the boy’s lips and pulling back before the boy could try to get any more.

He kneeled in front of Louis, the smaller man’s breath catching when he saw. “Gonna suck your cock baby boy. _Don’t come_.”

Louis nodded furiously, hands still clasped behind his back and he watched as Harry lifted his obscenely large hands, pulling down the boxers in one swipe, leaving Louis completely naked. Louis’s cock bobbed up as soon as it was free, flush against his stomach and completely hard, red at the tip from how long it had been ignored.

Harry hummed in approval, moving one hand to spread the precum that had pooled at the tip and using it as lube around the rest of the length, sliding his hand up and down, stroking torturously slow. “So pretty, such a nice cock baby, isn’t it?” he teased. Louis whined and Harry took mercy on him, speeding up his hand and leaning forward.

As soon as Harry’s mouth closed around the tip Louis let out a loud, strangled moan, trying his best to restrain himself and not fuck into the tight heat of Harry’s mouth like he wanted to so bad. Harry pulled off his cock when Louis tried to cover his moans again, continuing to pull him off and looking up at his boy sternly. “Nuh-uh baby, wanna hear you. Be loud.”

He wrapped his lips back around Louis’s cock as soon as he got the words out and Louis moaned again, this time without trying to stifle the sounds and it vibrated off the walls, filling the room every time Harry flicked his tongue just right, licking over the vein on the underside of Louis’s cock.

Harry kept at it, continuing to take more and more of Louis down his throat, using his hand for what didn’t fit when he would pull back and suck at just the tip. Louis let out a strangled moan when Harry dove back down again, a sound Harry knew meant he was close, right about to spill over the edge.

He didn’t say anything though, so Harry kept going, moving up and down the length of Louis’s cock and swallowing around him. After one particularly tactile movement when Harry deepthroated Louis, the tip of his cock hitting the back of his throat and swallowing around him, Louis moaned loudly, throwing his head back and that was it. He was coming into Harry’s mouth without notice.

Harry pulled off of Louis immediately, wiping at the escaped come and standing up. Louis started apologizing as soon as he was coherent enough to understand that he came without asking, knees shaking. “D-Daddy, didn’t - sorry Daddy, _sorry_. Didn’t mean to, I didn’t - _Daddy_.”

Louis babbled, maybe just to himself with how lost he was now, and he was just working himself up, eyes brimming with tears because he _wasn’t good_. Harry hushed him, stepping back and looking down at the boy with a stern look. “Were you supposed to do that Louis?”

Louis whined, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut.

“ _Words_ , Louis.”

“ _No_ \--” Louis gasped, straining to find his ground and balance himself on Harry, “No Daddy I – I tried to stop. Didn’t - sorry Daddy sorry. Wanna be good. Good for you. ‘M sorry Daddy.”

Harry shook his head, waiting until Louis made eye contact with him again to speak. “Do good boy’s come without asking Louis?”

Louis shook his head; it was all he could do. “No, they don’t. Naughty boys do. I thought you were good Louis. Don’t you want to be good?”

Louis nodded his head vigorously, keening and throwing his head back, feeling Harry’s hot breath fan over his neck, “Yeah - Daddy please. Wanna be so good, I’ll be good Daddy. ‘M sorry, Daddy _please_. Let me try.”

“ _Quiet Louis_. Naughty boys need punishment, don’t they?”  
  


Another desperate nod.

“Over my knee.”

Louis whined but he complied, scrambling to follow Harry to the edge of the bed. Harry arranged himself quickly, reaching out and pulling Louis down over his lap when the boy just stood there. He shifts the boy so he’s balanced, arse up, and rubs a hand over the pale skin. “Gonna start with twenty.”

Louis nods but doesn’t say anything and Harry flicks his eyes from his arse to his head. “Louis? Words.”

Louis nods again, opening his mouth and trying to speak but it comes out mostly jumbled, words choked, and Harry can just barely hear a ‘yeah Daddy’. Harry furrows his eyebrows. “Hey, Louis, look at me.”

Louis does, twisting his neck awkwardly and peering into the olive green of Harry’s irises, mouth parted and spit covering his lips. “What’s your color Louis?”

Louis whines at that, furrowing his eyebrows and squirming against Harry. When they used to do this during what feels like forever ago, an undefined period of time that Louis can’t even determine right now, Harry rarely had to ask for his color, not by the end of it. He can’t help but feel like he’s failed.

“Hey, hey, no. None of that baby,” Harry chastises quickly. “It’s okay. Just need to know love, yeah? Have to know you're okay Lou. Can you tell me baby boy? What’s your color?” He rubs a soothing hand up and down the boy’s spine, reminding him he’s there and he can feel Louis immediately relax under him.

“G-Green Daddy. So green, please.” His words are still slightly jumbled but Harry can hear the sincerity behind them and that’s what he needed.

“And what are the other colors baby?” he asks just to be sure. It’s been a long while since they’ve played this seriously; it’s important that Louis remembers.

“Y-yellow and red Daddy. Yellow is slow down and red is stop.”

“Good boy,” Harry praises, rubbing a hand throw Louis’s quiff, scratching at his scalp. “So good for me love, need you to tell me if that changes baby.”

Louis nods. “Yes Daddy.”

Harry slips back into his role once he knows that Louis is safe, and he moves his attention back to Louis’s arse. “Gonna spank you now, start with twenty. Count after each one. If you mess up we start over.”

“Yeah Daddy,” Louis replies, shifting a little on Harry’s lap and waiting for the first one.

It comes a couple seconds later, and Louis jumps at the surprise of it. It was right in the middle of his left cheek, and it stung, but the pain wasn’t as bad as just waiting for it, anticipating and not knowing when it was going to come.

“One,” Louis croaked out, shifting on Harry’s lap.

The next one came right after Louis got the words out, this time on the other side and it was stronger than the last, stung more. “Two,” Louis counted shakily, trying to reposition himself so it wouldn’t sting so much. Harry shushed him, rubbing over his skin and up his spine.

“ _Three_ , f-foUR, fi- _ive_ ,” came soon after, each in quick succession to each other, alternating between left and right and Louis buried his head into the comforter, trying to muffle his whines.

Harry waited another minute, riling Louis up while he waited in suspense before the next four came down, _hard_ , and Louis screamed this time, the hits starting to sting the more that were added.

“Count Louis, or we’ll start over,” came Harry’s voice, deep and stern and Louis could feel the tears in his eyes.

“S-six, se-even, eight, nin-ne,” he cried, muffling his sniffles into Harry’s thigh.

Louis cock was starting to harden again, even though he had come only fifteen or so minutes ago, and it hurt to get hard so quick. He was caught trapped up against Harry’s leg and his stomach, and even with all the pain of his stinging bum he couldn’t stop how his body reacted to it; it just added to the sensation of being spanked every time Harry’s hand came down.

“TEN,” Louis screamed, the first tears falling over as Harry rubbed a hand over his now-red arse, soothing him and whispering small phrases of encouragement to keep him going. “Doing so well baby boy, halfway there, love, c’mon keep going.”

He spanked him three more times after that, before Louis could say anything else and Louis cried out, trying to shift his hips to get friction for his now-hard cock as the discomfort of his arse started to turn into more pleasure than pain. ‘EleVEN, t-twelve, thir-teen - Daddy, please-- need - _hurts_. Hard Daddy.”

Harry smoothed his hand over Louis’s bum again, the red handprint now imprinted on either side. “Not supposed to feel good baby, it’s a punishment,” Harry told him in a condescending voice, only increasing Louis’s state of arousal, adding, “ _Stay still Louis_. No moving or we’ll start over,” when Louis started to rut against him.

Louis whined, burrowing his head into Harry's thigh again and arching up, asking for the next spank at the same time as trying to get away from it. Fourteen and fifteen came quickly and Louis moaned loudly, babbling nonsense and repeating ‘ _DaddyDaddyDaddy_ ’ over and over, spit dribbling out onto Harry’s jeans that he hadn't taken off yet.

He can feel Harry’s cock pressing up against him, still restrained in his clothes and it just makes Louis want it more, want Harry in him. “Daddy please, ‘m hard, need to come - _Daddy_.”

Harry abruptly pulled his hand away, saying sternly, “ _Do not come_ Louis. You’re not allowed to until I give you permission, just gonna have to take it and deal with it Louis. You didn’t listen. Thought you wanted to be good baby?”

Louis moans loudly, arching his back and ignoring the throbbing of his cock, begging for release. “ _Please_. Fuck, _Daddy_. Wanna be good, wanna be good for you. Please, won’t come, promise. _Wannawannawanna_ \- _please_.”

“Good boy,” Harry praises and Louis keens, clenching to stop himself from coming just at the words and Harry brings his hand down again, twice, right over where he’s been spanking Louis’s right cheek this whole time and it _stings_ , but it feels so. fucking. good. “Sixteen, s-seventeen, _Daddy_.”

Louis doesn’t even realize he’s crying still until he feels the tears roll down his face and he burrows his head down to try to wipe them off, whipping it back up when Harry spanks him again, once to his left side. “EightEEN,” Louis screams, doing everything he can not to start rubbing off against Harry again. He can feel his cock leaking precum out of his slit.

“That’s it baby, doing so well love. Only two more, taking your punishment so well Lou, doing so good. Look so pretty like this, all spread out and red. ‘S gonna hurt so bad to sit tomorrow, gonna think about me every time baby, gonna remember what Daddy did to you, yeah?”  
  


“Yeah Daddy,” Louis mumbles against Harry’s leg, spit seeping into the dark fabric.

Harry spanks him two more times, the hardest yet and Louis screams out after both, tears falling quickly down his face and arse out, asking for more even though he doesn’t know if he could take it. “Ni-n-nineteen, T-twenty, Daddy. Twenty.”

Harry rubs his arse over where it had a handprint now, soothing the skin. “All done baby. You did so well, took your punishment so good baby. So proud of you baby boy.”

Louis goes plaint in Harry’s hold, lets Harry run his hands over his body and basks in the feeling of feeling so loved, so cared for. His head feels so light, even more floaty than how he felt at the club. “Color baby?”

“Green,” Louis whispers, cock hard under him, “Close Daddy, close under.”

“Thank you for telling me baby,” Harry praises, rubbing Louis’s back, watching him carefully and waiting for the moment to see Louis slip under, into that headspace that makes him feel all safe and light, like nothing can touch him and everything feels so _good_.

“Up on the bed baby boy,” Harry instructs next and Louis scrambles to comply, shifting until he’s lying on his back, legs spread, and hard cock flushed up against his stomach, body on display. Harry’s still completely dressed, and it makes him even harder if that’s possible, that Louis doesn’t even get to choose if he’s butt naked or not. That Harry’s still clothed and if someone walked in it wouldn’t look like Harry had anything to do with this except for the handprints on his abused arse that say otherwise.

Harry just stares at him for a few moments, eyes pointedly raking over his bare body and Louis feels so exposed like this, on display for Harry and Harry only. “ _Daddy_ ,” Louis whines when Harry doesn’t make an attempt to move.

Harry tilts his head, like he can't see Louis’s cock that’s painfully hard by now, for the second time tonight. “What is it baby?”

Louis whines, throwing his head back against the pillow and moving his hand to his prick, trying to give himself some kind of relief.

Harry is there as soon as he’s barely touched himself, smacking his hand away and asking harshly, “Did I say you could touch yourself Louis?”

Louis shakes his head furiously, tucking his hands under his hips so that he can't move them to touch himself again and he thrusts up into nothing, desperate for anything Harry will give him. “Please Daddy, need to come.”

Harry tsks, saying in a dark voice, “You won’t come Louis. Gonna finger yourself open though, no touching your cock. I’m gonna watch yeah? Daddy’s gonna watch you get all messy and desperate.”

“ _Daddy_ \--”

“--trying to imagine your fingers are my cock but it won’t be the same will it baby boy? Won’t fill you up like you want. Not big enough.”

Louis bucks up again, again into nothing, and he whines high in his throat, choking out a broken moan. “Daddy - daddy please, want you, please. Need you in me, want you to fill me up, want it to hurt, please, _Daddy_.”

Harry stands up off the bed and walks around to the side, opening up the drawer where he knows Louis keeps the lube, pulling out the bottle. He walks back over to the end of the bed, throwing the lube onto the mattress, close enough for Louis to reach it but not actually handing it to him.

“Open yourself up Louis, don’t want to see you touching yourself or you’re not going to come at all tonight, got it? Do it well.”

It wasn’t a question but Louis nods anyway, vigorously, and he sits up a little, rests back against the pillows and fumbles for the lube. He clicks open the cap hastily, coating his fingers generously and doesn’t even bother warming it up. He searches for his hole blindly between his legs, panting heavily as Harry watches on, not moving, all of his focus on his fingers that are down below his body.

Louis teases his rim for a minute or two, getting himself ready to finger himself and Harry doesn’t say anything about it except for an approving hum, watching Louis play with himself. When he’s ready he slips the first finger in, twisting it a bit to help stretch him open. There’s a low thrum of pain in the back of his mind, but it isn't enough to slow him down and he slips another finger in seamlessly, pumping them in and out with haste as he tries to work himself up to another. He can feel it throughout his body, and it tingles the way it always does, the way he loves when he’s filled up.

His movements falter when he catches sight of Harry stripping out of the corner of his eye, and he whines, squeezing his eyes shut before snapping them open again when he remembers he wants to watch. Harry looks so smug, knows exactly what he’s doing to Louis, stripping his club outfit off slowly while Louis’s eyes track the moment, even as his fingers disappear into his tight heat.

Louis’s eyes trail over the tattoos on Harry’s smooth skin - the laurels right above his waist, the birds on his chest, the butterfly on his stomach - and they flick over to his biceps, the tattoos that line them, the space they take up on Harry’s sculpted arms. Louis moans at the sight and Harry’s smug, dominant smirk only grows. “Add another,” he instructs, no room to argue, and Louis hustles to obey, slipping in a third finger along the other two.

It’s a tight fit and the sensation ebbs on painful, but Louis keeps working himself open, imagines how good it’s going to feel when Harry’s actually inside him, thrusting into him and just making him take it, moaning into his ear and tracing his tongue over his jaw, biting love bites into the skin.

Louis moans involuntarily, trying to crook his fingers and find the spot he longs to touch but can't reach on his own. “ _Daddy_ ,” he pleads, legs falling open further. “Daddy please.”

Harry walks back towards the bed, away from the pile of clothes he left on the floor. He climbs onto the edge of the bed easily, balancing on his knees and bringing a hand to his hard cock, curved against his stomach. Louis moans as he watches Harry touch himself, longs to touch his own prick or get his mouth on Harry’s.

“Feel good baby? Wanna touch yourself too?”

Louis nods his head vigorously, reaching his other hand up to wrap around his cock but stops when he looks at the expression on Harry’s face, the one that is just daring Louis to disobey, to do something without permission.

Louis buries his face into the pillow, twisting his neck and whining, continuing to pump three fingers in and out of him, hiding him moans in the pillow.

“Look so beautiful like this baby, all spread out for me to see. Trying so hard, aren’t you? Trying to be good?”

Louis moans, throwing his head back and fingering himself more efficiently. “Yes Daddy, please, ‘am.”

“Look at you baby. Such a mess. You’re spilling all over yourself aren’t you Louis? Such a mess and I bet you love it, don’t you baby boy? Love being all dirty, covered in your own come?”

“ _Daddyyy_ ,” Louis whines, planting his feet on the mattress to try to get a better angle and failing, grinding down on his fingers.

“All your precum dribbling out of your spent little cock and you can't even do anything about it, can you? Just have to keep opening yourself up for Daddy, only good for getting Daddy off.”

“ _Yeah, yeah, yeah_ ,” Louis chants, crooking his fingers inside himself and feeling the stretch, the way he feels like he’s being split open and how it’s _still_ not the same as having Harry inside him.

“Need to open yourself up more baby, don’t you? How is my cock gonna fit in there? Gonna split you open and you're not even gonna be able to take it, are you. Gonna be too big for you.”

Louis shakes his head adamantly, ignoring his painfully hard and throbbing cock in favor of slipping another finger into his hole, squishing it in with the other three so he’s got four pumping in and out of him, stretching him open like only Harry’s cock has ever been able to.

“ _Daddy_ , can take it, can,” he babbles. He keeps going, can feel himself getting closer, thinks he might even be able to come untouched, pumping and curving four of his fingers inside himself.

“That’s enough,” comes Harry’s voice, short and snappy, and Louis immediately pulls his fingers out, leaving himself whining at the loss of feeling so full. “Come over here and suck my cock, get Daddy all wet for your hole.”

Louis scrambles to obey, moving onto his hands and knees and crawling to the end of the bed where Harry is kneeling on the edge of the mattress, stroking his cock slowly in his hand. Louis looks at it, deciding how to fit it into his mouth and Harry sets a hand in his hair, pulling him closer. “C’mon baby, you know how to take it love, know just how to fit Daddy in your mouth.”

Louis does, and he decides to just for go it. He leans forward, wrapping his mouth around the tip of Harry’s cock and adjusting to the size. He licks the underside, pulling off and running his tongue down the shaft. Harry moans above him, throaty and deep in the way only Louis can get him to, and it spurs him on, wrapping his mouth back around his ten inches.

Louis takes him deeper and deeper, eyes watering at the size, and Harry holds onto his hair, moving him back and forth. Louis lets himself be used, moaning around Harry’s cock and sending vibrations up it, sending Harry hurtling closer to the edge. He only gags a couple times before he gets it under control, taking Harry down until he hits the back of his throat over and over.

“Yeah baby, fuck. Look so good on my cock, taking me down your throat. Suck so good love.”

Louis hums, eyes fluttering closed and he swallows around Harry, pulling back to mouth and suck at the tip again before going all the way back down, letting spit and precum mess his mouth.

Harry pulls him off no more than a minute later when he’s getting too close to coming, before he can even get inside Louis , and Louis looks completely wrecked when he pulls off. His mouth is covered in Harry’s precum and his hair is a mess from Harry’s hands yanking on it. His eyes are rimmed red from crying and his pupils are blown wide; eyes glazed over.

“Did so good baby, took me so well love,” Harry praises and Louis keens, eyes fluttering closed and open and Harry can see how far gone he is, the way his movements are languid. He’s close to falling over the edge and Harry is going to get him there; get him to where everything feels so good, where it feels like he’s flying.

“Daddy,” Louis sighs, not bothering to wipe Harry’s come off his mouth and looking up at Harry through glassy eyes. The sight alone almost makes Harry come and he dips down for a kiss before pulling back. “Gonna ride me baby. You can come tonight but you have to do all the work love. You can come after Daddy does baby boy.”

Louis is quick to nod his head, letting Harry manhandle him back to the top of the bed. Harry positions himself on his backside, lying out so that Louis can climb on top. Louis hovers over his cock, gripping it in his hand and lining it up with his hole.

Harry rests his hands on his hips as Louis slides down, inch after inch, and when he finally bottoms out, he squeezes his eyes shut, focusing on how good it feels rather than the ebbing pain. “ _Daddy_ ,” he moans.  
  
“There you go baby, just like that,” Harry praises, letting Louis take his time to start moving.

He does a few minutes later and it’s slow, working himself up to it and trying not to let himself come just from being filled so much. “ _Daddy_ ,” Louis moans again and that seems to be the only word he can say, like his brain is a broken record playing on repeat.

“That’s it baby, fuck yourself on me love. Yeah there you go baby - _fuck_.” Harry throws his head back, rocking up into Louis a little to help him as he swivels his hips, uses his thighs to push himself up and down on Harry’s cock.

“Fuck love, keep going, don’t stop. Feel so good around be baby, so tight.”

Louis lets out a cry, throwing his head back in ecstasy. “ _Yeahyeahyeah_ , Daddy - _Daddy_. Gotta come, gonna come please... _pleasepleaseplease._ ” Louis’s hips rock faster, fucking himself up and down on Harry’s cock and he can feel the white heat pooling in his stomach. He’s so sensitive and the way Harry keeps thrusting in and out of him is close to too much, but still not enough.

“Keep going baby, almost there. You can hold on a little longer baby, can’t you? For Daddy? Doing so well, make me feel so good. _Fuck_.”

Harry grabs Louis’s hips and fucks up into him, pulling almost all the way out and then slamming back in. Louis keeps himself going, trying to push Harry over the edge as soon as possible and stop his orgasm at the same time and all it takes is him clenching around Harry for Harry to spill into him, moaning Louis’s name loud and fucking all the way into him, staying there.

Harry pressing so relentlessly on his prostate sends Louis over the edge right after Harry and he clenches around him again, come shooting up over his chest and over Harry’s with a cry of, “ _Daddy_.” They ride out their highs together, Harry keeping a hold on Louis’s hips and fucking him through it until Louis collapses on his chest, completely spent and exhausted.  
  
“Did so good baby, did so well love,” Harry coos into Louis’s ear, rubbing his naked back soothingly. He can tell Louis’s there, hit subspace some time in between riding Harry and coming on his chest. He can tell by the depth of his breath and how pliant he is on top of Harry’s chest.

He keeps stroking his back, rubbing up and down soothingly and whispering praises into his ear. “Did so amazing kitten, can you come back to me baby? So proud of you sweetheart, c’mon kitten. Need you to come back to me.”

Louis hums softly and Harry knows he’s trying, knows that he understands what Harry wants when he uses ‘kitten’. Harry keeps holding him, telling how good he did and how he’s _such a good boy_ and asking him to _please come back kitten_.

Louis does a while later, while Harry’s holding him in the bed, not having moved since Louis went under, reassuring him as he comes back from flying, light and careless in wherever he disappears to when he goes under. He gets Louis to drink a little bit of water once he comes back before tucking him into the covers, promising him he’ll be right back.

He walks off and finds a wet rag, wiping himself and Louis off and throwing the rag into the laundry bin in the corner. He pulls the covers back, snuggling up behind Louis and cuddling him, keeping him safe and they fall asleep like that, sleepy and sated in each other’s arms.

**_xxxi._ **

Louis felt light in a way he hadn't in possibly years. His entire body felt relaxed, a feeling he hadn't remembered experiencing in a long time, at least not like this. It wasn’t just a relaxation of his muscles, either, or the wash of post-orgasm endorphins, it was a _deep_ thing, bone deep. He didn’t realize what it was at first; it felt too foreign. But he was _happy_ , he realized eventually, _genuinely, completely happy._

It was something he had felt ebbing at his skin, right under the surface like an itch he needed to scratch. He didn’t know what it was, but it makes sense now. He’s _genuinely, actually_ happy.

The last couple weeks had passed in a blur, too. Harry had spent every night at the flat, sharing the same bed with Louis, except for the odd night where he stayed at his own home. Those were the nights that Xavier and Louis didn’t sleep at their flat either, instead following Harry into his and sleeping with him. It was becoming a routine, the three of them, and Louis could see how happy it made Xavier, whether it was subconsciously or consciously. He was reveling in all the attention he was getting from two full time fathers, and he was loving every second of it.

There was almost no moment they weren't within a couple feet of each other, whether that was at home or at the school or at Tesco’s, during an impromptu family grocery trip. They were all completely co-dependent of each other and it was working brilliantly.

Xavier would come barreling through the front door with Louis following after him, bragging to his other father about the good grade he got on one of his spelling quizzes and how he was the only one in his whole class who was able to spell ‘ _together’_ , jumping into his father’s open arms when Harry congratulated him and erupting in a fit of giggles when Harry smothered his forehead and nose and cheeks in kisses. Or when Louis walked into Harry’s house after staying late at the school to get some marking done and Harry was already there with Xavier, in the kitchen cooking some kind of chicken and mashed potatoes for all of them, or another day when it was steak and rice, or another day still, when it was just plain burgers.

He was happy, although Louis, admittedly, was also going _crazy_ , because as great as it was, every time him and Harry finally got a moment alone together, Xavier would push the door to the bedroom open, crawling in between them on the mattress and asking for them to read him a book, or Niall would call, inviting them out to drinks with him and Ally, effectively killing any and all moods and/or plans Louis had for him and Harry.

Liam though, the saint, caught on when Louis started groaning every time him and Harry were interrupted just kissing, and he offered to watch Xavier for a Saturday and Sunday, so that Harry and Louis could finally have a much-needed date… weekend?, which is why they were now lounging at Harry’s, completely child free, and running around in shirts, shorts and socks while they goofed off.

They’d made cookies, and to Louis’s surprise, he managed not to burn his batch, whic was now cooling on the island counter with Harry’s. They’d stumbled up the stairs to Harry’s room to wait, stealing open mouthed kisses as they tried not to trip, and giggling to each other when Harry _did_. Harry pulled Louis into the room by the grip of his shirt, laying back-first, down on the mattress and pulling Louis over him.

Louis climbed on top, giggling and straddling his hips, and bent down to press kisses on Harry’s face, along his jawline and down his neck, pulling up his shirt and continuing over his chest. He smirked up at Harry when he circled his nipple with his tongue and Harry gasped, bucking up into Louis and throwing his head back as Louis switched to the other nipple.

Louis sat up, pulling Harry with him as his bum was snug to Harry’s crotch, and slipped his hands down to grip the bottom on Harry’s tee, pulling it up over his head and throwing it off to the side, landing on the floor somewhere that Louis didn’t care to think about. He layed them back down again, wiggling his eyebrows and capturing Harry’s lips in his own, licking into his mouth.

Harry followed his lead, hands holding Louis’s hips and subtly bucking into him whenever Louis bit down on his lip or rubbed just right over where his arse was situated. They kissed slow and sensually, and when Louis straightened back up all Harry could do was look up at him, eyes glazed over, and lips parted. Louis sat back on Harry’s hips, expression serious like he was thinking, and then he smile mischievously down at Harry, smirking and declaring, “We need music.”

A grin spread across Harry’s face too. He had told Louis a couple days ago that he set up speakers in the ceilings of most the rooms so that he could play music from anywhere, and it was accessible through his computer that sat on his desk in up against one of the walls in the living room. “I’ll be right back,” Louis patted Harry’s chest when the man made no attempt to argue or disagree, climbing up off of him and making his way to the door.  
  
Harry sat up on his forearms, reaching out to pat Louis’s bum as he walked away, watching him saunter out of the room and sway his hips a little extra as he went. He stared at the door a little longer after Louis disappeared and then fell back on the bed, starring out on the mattress and sighing contentedly, staring up at the ceiling with a stupid smile on his face.

Louis walked down the stairs with a pleased smile on his face, turning into the living room and walking to the computer. The password was _120916_ , Xavier’s birthday, which wasn’t hard to guess, and Louis got it on his second try, sitting down in the chair and opening Spotify, trying to find a playlist.

He sat back and waited for it to load, humming to himself and smiling off into space when a notification popped up in the top right corner. Louis’s eyes flickered to it automatically, smiling contentedly and putting his hand back on the computer mouse to close it when the subject line caught his eye.

Louis furrowed his eyebrows, clicking on the ‘open’ button that was to the side of the notification and leaned over the keyboard, waiting for it to open to the new email. Harry called down from the bedroom, telling him to hurry up in a slow, deep drawl that Louis could just hear and know he was smiling, and Louis called back a distracted, “Just a sec love!” tapping his fingers on the desk by the keyboard.

Louis’s eyes flickered over the words when it came up, looking at the sender line and reading, _Whitefish Bay High School._

“Oh.”

Louis moved the cursor back up to the red circle in the top left corner of the tab, hovering over it with his finger over the mouse, ready to exit out of it. He wasn’t going to read it, he wouldn’t. That would be wrong, a breach of trust. It was probably nothing anyway, nothing important. Otherwise, Harry would have told him. …Right? _Right_. Yeah.

…It’s just… Harry _does_ tell him everything, but he hadn't said anything about this, hadn't mentioned it once, even when he shares every other insignificant little thought that crosses his mind, out loud. And… and Louis doesn’t _know_ of a Whitefish Bay around here, he’s pretty sure that doesn’t exist in London. Maybe not in the UK at all.

Louis makes an exasperated noise as his eyes flicker over to the email again, scrolling down little by little to get to the body of the paragraphs, guilt unfurling itself in his stomach like a big banner announcing his insecurity.

“I’m a terrible person,” he whispers as the first lines appear on the screen. “A complete idiot and a terrible person.” His eyes flicker over each word as his heart pounds in his chest.

_Dear Mr. Styles,_

_We were pleased to receive your resume for the next 2021-2022 school year here at Whitefish Bay High School, located in Whitefish Bay, Wisconsin. We’ve recently had a position open up in our staff, and it is my distinct pleasure to offer you the position of Head Principal at_ _Whitefish Bay High School_ _, with full administrative responsibilities and a salary of..._

That was all Louis had to read. He sat back in his seat, eyes scanning over each and every word again and again, trying to process exactly what this meant, that Harry hadn't even saw it fit to _mention_ this, and now Louis’s head was swarming with guilt _and_ anger.

His lips were parted in shock as he stared at the screen, but he wasn’t actually _seeing_ anything there, and he let out a strangled cough. He wasn’t seeing straight, swirling red dots clouding his vision as he gripped the arm rests of the seat. He vaulted himself to his feet, flexing and extending his fingers, trying to deal with what he was feeling as he walked blindly to the foyer. It felt like his throat was closing and he wasn’t getting enough oxygen. His mind was jumping to conclusions already and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. His eyes were stinging, and he knew he should be rational about this, just talk to Harry, but he _couldn’t_. It felt like the world had stopped spinning and the tears would fall any moment now.

_He’d have told you if he were going to accept the position... right? A position in **North America**?_

“ _Right_?” Louis demanded to himself, as he if the shoes he was frantically slipping on his feet and his phone that he was grabbing off the table by the door could offer him an answer. As if they could give reassurance. He heard feet in the hallway upstairs, heard the hesitant footsteps as Harry descended the steps. _How was he supposed to explain this to Xavier? How was he going to get every trace of him out of the flat; just move on again?_ Louis’s mind wonders somewhere deep, somewhere that Louis doesn’t let wonder often.

He hears Harry before he sees him, chuckling softly and asking, “Lou, what’s taking so long babe? Could you not pick which playlist--” Harry cuts himself off as he turns the corner to the living room from the stairs. “Lou?”

Louis’s head shot up as he tried to get his heel into the _stupid fucking trainers_ that wouldn’t go on his feet, and he saw Harry’s eyebrows furrow when the man saw him bent over there, in front of the front door, desperately trying to dress as soon as possible.

“Louis, baby, what are you doing?”

Louis just shakes his head, choking back anything that could sound close to a sob and keeps putting on his stuff. Harry is confused. “Louis? Where are you going? I thought you were staying?” He sounds so uncertain and it breaks Louis’s heart to hear.

Louis stands up once he’s finally got his shoes on, stuffing his phone into his back pocket and looking up to Harry with glassy eyes. He can feel his hands shaking, can feel his whole _body_ shaking. “I-I have to go.” He reaches out blindly for the door handle behind him and Harry follows the movement, reaching out for him instead with hurt laced in between sparkles of gold and green. Something’s wrong, something’s really wrong and Harry knows it, can see it in the way that Louis doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Lou? Louis where are you going? Why are you leaving?? I thought - _I thought you weren't going to leave me_. You pr _o-mised_.” Harry’s voice breaks somewhere in there and Louis can hear how he’s tearing up too, how his throat sounds swollen, and the words are choked.

Louis shakes his head again instead of answering, squeezing his eyes shut to stop the tears from falling but they fall anyway, land on the neckline of his shirt. Harry’s still shirtless. “I have to go Harry,” is the last thing he murmurs, wiping his nose and yanking the door open when he finally gets a grip on it. He slips out before Harry can grab him, rushing down the sidewalk as the sun sits perfectly bright in the sky, no clouds or rain at all.

He yanks the car door open and shoves himself into the seat, tears falling freely over his cheeks now as the engine starts, and he pulls away from the curb. He looks back to the house one more time and sees Harry in the doorway, arm balancing him on the door and he’s full-on crying now, ugly sobs wrenching out of his body as he watches Louis drive away, tears streaming readily down his cheeks.

It’s the last thing Louis sees before he drives away.

**_xxxii._ **

As soon as Louis’s parked his car in front of the flat, he’s throwing the driver seat door open, slamming it behind him and locking the vehicle as quickly as he can, staggering his way towards the front door and turning his key in the hole.

It’s dark when he enters, all the lights off save for the kitchen lamp that lays tucked away in the farthest corner on the counter, hidden by the fridge. Louis sets (throws) the keys on the counter as he walks by. There’s nobody here, obviously, and nobody _will_ be here until tomorrow late-afternoon, when Liam brings Xavier back.

Since Louis was supposed to be with Harry until then. Expect now he’s not.

His mind is in a rare state of calm now that he’s here, and it’s almost like everything’s been slowed down, like he couldn’t be going one-hundred miles an hour even if he wanted to. His breathing has regulated as he looks around the flat, sees Harry’s trainers lying lined up by the door and one of his obscenely large hoodies laying strewn across the arm of the couch.

His presence lingers in the room even though he hasn’t been here for a couple days now that they’ve been spending nights at Harry’s so often, and it’s stupid. Stupid that Louis can recognize the vanilla-pine scent with a trace of Harry’s cologne so easily. It’s a testament to how hard it is going to be to get rid of all the traces of the man. Just the thought makes Louis’s throat dry and his stomach churn.

He can feel it all in his ribcage, all the emotion that he still needs to let out, but for now he’ll use his newfound sanity to think, to process how everything went to shit in just the last hour, give or take. How Louis had been too nosy, how he’d jumped to conclusions, how he’d started thinking about ways to cope before he even knew for certain that he’d need a vice to get him through this.

 _If he can’t tell me he’s leaving, then he can't leave_ , had been one of Louis’s trains of thought while he’d been speeding down the highway, a constant one that he was repeating like a mantra in his head. He repeated it in the car when he was off in a completely different land of cognizance that had nearly landed him in an unpleasant crash with an automobile repair quota that would have definitely made a small dent in his bank account, and he was repeating it now.

He just - he feels so _exhausted_ now that he’s here; emotionally, physically, mentally. Just the thought of letting himself cry some more, although appealing, feels like so much unnecessary exertion that Louis just doesn’t have it in him.

He settles for making himself a cup of tea, something that seems to work wonders at calming him, clearing his head. It worked when Harry left, when he found out he was pregnant. Again, when his mother’s monitor had just flatlined in the hospital room, and the morning of the funeral when Louis knew he had to be strong for his siblings, if for nothing else, and it’ll work now. It has to; Louis needs it to.

He climbs into bed with the steaming hot mug, takes careful sips as he rests his back against his headboard, knees pulled to his chest with the thick comforter pulled up to his armpits. He stares blankly at the wall, where a mirror hangs next to the closest doors, and Louis just watches his reflection.

He looks exhausted, is the first thing he notices, fitting to how he feels. He can see the bags under his eyes and there are still dried tear tracks on his face. He just looks _worn_ , when he stares back at himself, and Louis feels like he's too tired to keep fighting. He will, he won’t give up, he just feels it right now.

When the tea is gone, after Louis doesn’t even remember finishing it off or taking the last few sips, he sets in on the bedside table and shifts, burying himself further under the comforter and pulling it up to his neck. It makes himself feel so small, and he ignores the way his phone lights up with calls in favor of staring at the blank wall as he lays on his left side, replaying what happened hours ago, what’s happened in the last couple of weeks, months. Looking back, it all feels so surreal, like this is all one big dream - or nightmare, maybe - that he could wake up from anytime. Wouldn’t that be cruel though?

His breathing evens out some point between thinking about looking into deep, deep green eyes, and envisioning what his future might look like in the next couple of months, and he falls asleep wrapped in a hoodie he doesn’t remember pulling off the couch and slipping on, hugging his pillow to his chest unnecessarily tight.

-

Liam turns his spare key to Louis’s flat in the lock just after five o’clock, and he walks in with Xavier tucked happily into his arms and Niall trailing behind him. It’s dark, is the first thing he notices, like maybe nobody’s home, except he saw Louis’s car out in front, so he knows that’s not true.

The door to Louis’s bedroom is shut though, and he can hear what sounds like small whimpers maybe coming from the room, and he really hopes to God above that him and Niall aren’t about to walk in on Louis and Harry fucking, potentially traumatizing their child for the rest of his life. That’d be bad.

He makes a comment about it, smiling, and Niall laughs behind him, agreeing; Xavier is giggling in his arms, not because he understands but because he's four and he wants to feel included. Liam calls out a, “Lou?” while Niall hip checks the door closed behind them and they walk further into the living room.

There’s not a response, the possibility of walking into the first bedroom to see Harry balls deep in Louis becoming greater and greater, and Liam really doesn’t want to see that. It would make for great blackmail for at least the next couple of months though. Maybe he’ll send Niall in first. The lad can’t be scared by _anything_ ; it’s kind of troubling, really.

Liam looks back to Niall and gestures to the room, Niall giggling behind him as Xavier looks back and forth between them with wide, glowing eyes, and Liam puts his hand on the handle, twisting it and walking in, holding a hand over Xavier’s eye readily, just in case. “Tommo, if you guys are _making love_ \--” he says so that foul words don’t fall upon innocent ears that he happens to be carrying in his arms, “--in there, you’d better stop because - _Lou_?”

-

Louis opens his eyes to the sound of his bedroom door clicking open and the shadows of two bodies shuffling into the room. His eyes are swollen and dry and it’s uncomfortable to open them, but he does anyway.

He hasn’t left the bed since he fell asleep last night, and it had felt like he’d had a hangover when he woke up, except the only thing he drank was tea. He also had momentarily forgotten the last twenty-four hours when he’d woken up, and it’d been a bitter pill to swallow to realize that that part had in fact _not_ been a dream. Since then, he’s layed buried under the covers, either staring blankly at the wall and thinking in the dark, save for the light that shines through the closed blinds of the window, or crying to himself, letting the tears fall down his face when he remembers that _Harry might be leaving, he wants to leave_ , and sniffling into his pillow.

The first figure is Liam, Louis recognizes, carrying a happy Xavier in his arms. Niall’s behind him, and they both look concerned at the sight of Louis is a dark room by himself, wrapped up in blankets with tears falling down his face. “ _Oh Lou_ ,” comes Liam’s softened voice as he enters into the room fully, letting Niall follow in after him.

Before Liam or Niall can say anything else, Xavier is perking up in Liam’s arms at the sight of his father, bouncing excitedly. “Daddy!”

Liam brings the boy over without another thought as Louis shuffles up in the bed, leaning back against the headboard with the blanket pooled at his chest and smiling softly at his toddler. He grabs the boy into his arms easily, holding him against his chest and squeezing his arms around the four-year-old. “Hi baby,” Louis coos, sniffling and subtly wiping his face so that the toddler won’t know he was crying.

The boy grips tightly to Louis’s shirt after not seeing him for more than twenty-four hours, nuzzling his face under his father’s chest, and Louis does the same, pressing kisses to his boy’s forehead and murmuring, “I missed you’s,” into his curls. He flicks his eyes up to meet Liam and Niall’s eyes over Xavier’s shoulder and is met with worried looks that he shakes his head subtly at, like he’s saying, “ _not now_ ,” and they nod.

Louis pulls Xavier back from his chest after a couple minutes, and the boy looks exhausted. He kisses his forehead softly as he asks, “How about a nap monkey?”

Louis walks out of Xavier’s room twenty minutes later after the boy has fallen asleep easily, padding down the hallway and into the living room to see Liam and Niall already sat on the couch, cups of tea in hand and a third sitting on the coffee table, steaming.

Niall hands him the mug as he sits down at the other end of the furniture, curling into himself as a means of comfort and tucking his feet under his thighs, pulling the throw blanket off the back of the couch and wrapping it around his shoulders.

  
“So…” Niall prompts carefully as Louis takes a few precautionary sips of his tea.

Louis nods, sighing and fluttering his eyes closed and open like any faster would take too much energy - because that’s exactly what he feels like - and swallows the last couple sips of tea that he had already taken before looking up and meeting two of his best mates anxious and concerned eyes. 

“So…” Louis starts, holding the mug in his hands and heating his skin, cutting right to the chase. “Harry applied for a position at a school in America, and he got hired.”

Both Niall and Liam’s eyes widen, and they choke and splutter on their tea, liquid coming out Niall’s nose as he tries to wipe it away and breath again. “WHAT?!” they both ask in unison.

Louis nods softly, offhandedly, like it isn't a life altering piece of information, pulling the blanket around him for security and meeting inquisitorial looks. “You’re going to have to elaborate,” Niall deadpans incredulously when Louis doesn’t continue.

He sighs, taking another sip of tea before setting it down on the coffee table and looking at his mates. “We were at his house, obviously, and I went downstairs to turn on music on his Mac, and this _email_ popped up, and my eyes just scanned over it once and I couldn’t just let it go, _because I’m a fucking idiot_ , so I looked at it and - and it was from a school in Wisconsin. _White Shark Bay?_ \- something like that, I dunno,” Louis waves a hand in the air noncommittally, swiping some fridge out of his eyes, clearing his throat. It’s still sore from all the crying and the tea’s helping, but only just.

“And they said they got his resume for next year,” he continues, refusing to make eye contact with either of the brunette’s in front of him, “and the position he wanted opened, and. That’s pretty much it, I guess. He applied to a school 4,000 miles away from here and didn’t say anything and now he has the job, so. That’s all there is too it, really.” The last sentence comes out bitter and Louis swallows around the lump in his throat. 

“Fucking shit.” Niall’s eyes are wide, fishing for words, and Liam, the ever rational one, only responds a couple silent moments later, when Louis hasn’t lifted his eyes and Niall is just gaping at him. “Are you sure they didn’t mix up emails? That happens sometimes.”

Louis glares at his cup on the table, shaking his head as his eyes sting, threatening to overflow again, as if they haven’t enough in the last couple hours to last a lifetime, at least a good couple of years if anything. “It had his name, it was for him,” Louis says with finality, tone sharp and voice clipped. Because he’s already tried to find a list of excuses and each one of them have come back to the same point: _you’re not good enough. he’s leaving. he’s leaving and there’s nothing you can do about it._

Louis scoffs self-depreciatingly, willing himself not to care so much. _It’s just a guy,_ he tells himself, he’s _just a guy._ “Why would he _do_ that?” he adds too, because he just doesn’t _understand_. He’s ran every possibility through his head a thousand and one times, and nothing makes _sense_.

Harry has a life here, maybe not _just_ in London, but England at the very least. He has his friends and family, Louis, a _son_. A gosh- _fucking_ -damn _son_. It doesn’t make sense why he’d want to just pick that all up and leave it behind so he can teach at a posh school in _Eastern Wisconsin_ , of all fucking places.

Liam and Niall are silent, and Louis takes it as a cue to continue, voice wavering when he says, “He said he’d _stay_. He _promised_. He told me that we were it for him, he said Xavier and I are all he needs, he said - he said there’s nobody else he cares about more. _So why the hell is he moving to fucking America_?” Tears slip down Louis’s face when he squeezes his eyes shut, and he swipes viciously at them, wiping the back of his hand on hoodie.

“He said we mattered more and now he’s fucking leaving, he always _leaves_. How do I tell Xavier? How do I explain to my four-year-old son that his other father is moving halfway across the world for a _job opportunity?_ I--” he wipes at his eyes again.

“--I _know_ what it feels like to think your father doesn’t love you, and I can’t let that happen to Xavier. _It’s why Harry didn’t know_ , because then there was no risk of Xavier getting hurt. What happens when he wakes up one day and thinks too hard about why his other father isn't here, and all I can tell him is that I wasn’t good enough for him to stay? That’s not fair, you guys, that’s not _fucking fair.”_ The last words come out strangled, catching in Louis’s throat like knives and cutting on the way out. He’s crying freely and Niall immediately pulls him into his arms, rubbing his back and whispering that it’s going to be okay, although Louis’s mind tells him that Niall can’t possibly know that.

“What did Harry say?” Liam asks next, after Louis has caught his breath and Niall has let him go.

Louis sniffles and wipes at his eyes and nose, shaking his head. “He didn’t… I don’t even know if he knows that I _saw_ it. I just _left_. Fuck I - I didn’t know what to do, my mind couldn’t even think straight. I couldn’t - I just. I don’t _know_.”

Liam puts a soothing hand on his knee, “Shhh, it’s okay Lou, it’s alright. M - maybe…”

He trails off and Louis looks up at him expectantly, wiping at his tears, and out of the corner of his eyes he can see Niall eyeing him like he's about to _break_. “Maybe you’re wrong though. Maybe it was old or… or I don’t know.” Liam throws his hands up just like he always used to in Uni, when he couldn’t quite figure out the answer to the last number on the assignment, eyes furrowed in concentration. “But you know Harry, Lou. He wouldn’t just. . . he wouldn’t just abandon his own _child_.”

Louis shakes his head. He knows that. Logically, he knows that, but that doesn’t explain why he’s getting offered the job right now then. If Harry wasn’t going to leave, he would’ve at least revoked his application; he wouldn’t be getting acceptance letters from America, he just wouldn’t. “ _But he’d leave me_.”

“That is _not_ what I said,” Liam snaps back sharply, eyes narrowed at Louis.

“No, but it’s what you meant,” Louis says quietly, offhandedly, like it’s not even a big deal anymore. “Harry won’t leave Xavier maybe, but he would leave me. He has before, and there’s nothing to say he wouldn’t again. He could just - he could just take Xavier with him. He could - _oh my gosh_ , he could take Xavier _with_ him.” Tears pool in his eyes again and this time, he lets them fall.

“He’s gonna - _he’s gonna take Xavier from me too_ ,” Louis hiccups. “I can’t lose Xavier.”

Niall and Liam share a look, something Louis can’t quite decipher in his state, but he assumes it had to do with something about him. Niall just shakes his head when he looks back at him. “Louis, please. Don’t be an idiot, for Christ’s sake. Firstly, legally, he can’t do that. _Second of all_ \--” Niall quickly continues when Louis opens his mouth to comment, “Harry is _not_ leaving, Lou. For one: because I’ll fucking kill him. Two: Harry’s not your _father_ Louis.”

Louis head snaps up and he gasps, choking around the tears and eyes narrowing at Niall. “ _What the fuck are you talking about_?”

“Harry is not Troy, Lou. I know you’re fucking scared that he might be, that he might just leave you and Xavier and make your baby boy that you love more than anything feel like he wasn’t enough because that’s what happened to you, but he’s _not_. You have to stop thinking that Lou.”

“Fuck you,” Louis spits, tears falling from his eyes as he glares at Nall.

“He’s not Troy, Louis.”

“ _Fuck._ you.”

Niall shakes his head, not backing down. “Harry--”

“ _Shut up_.”

“Is not--”

“Niall, maybe this isn’t something we should…”

“-- _Troy.”_

“SHUT UP. HE IS. HE IS AND HE’S GOING TO LEAVE AGAIN BECAUSE _I WASN’T GOOD ENOUGH_.” Louis’s voice breaks wretchedly, and he sobs, just full-on sobs from his spot on the couch.

“He’s not, Lou,” Niall says again, voice calm and even, as he watches his best friend break in front of him; it infuriates Louis even more.

Louis shakes his head furiously, eyes squeezed closed and he sobs again. “ST- _OP_.”

“Harry is _not_ Troy.” Niall scoots towards him on the couch.

“ _Shut_ up.”

“Harry. Isn’t. Troy.” He reaches up for Louis.

“ _Stop_ ,” he whispers, pleading, and shakes his head, wrapping his arms around his torso.

“ _He’s not Troy_ , Lou,” Niall whispers back, pulling the smaller man into his arms, hugging him to his chest and shushing him.

“ _Please_ ,” Louis whimpers more to himself than anything, clinging to Niall and burying his face into his best mate’s shirt. “He can’t leave.”

“It’s okay Lou, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“ _He can’t…”_

“I know Lou, shhh.” Niall rubs Louis’s back, letting him cry into his shoulder as Liam watches on, silent. Louis sniffles, breath catching, fisting his hands into Niall’s shirt before he wipes his nose on his shirt and pulls away, eyes blinking.

Niall smiles softly at him, hand still on his back, and he rubs his shoulder before pulling away, sitting back next to Liam. “What do I do?” Louis croaks.

Liam sighs, rubbing Louis’s back again. “I don’t know Lou… but I think maybe you should talk to him? I don’t think you should just let him leave, if that’s what he's really doing. Do you… do you want me to take Xavier for a couple days? Maybe it will be better to deal with all of this without having to make sure Xavier is okay too.”

Louis shakes his head adamantly, “No that’s - I can't do that. I can’t just give you my child when I have my own shit going on. That’s not fair. Not to you or Zee.”

“Lou,” Niall starts this time, gently, “Maybe Li’s right. Maybe you need to think about yourself for a couple days. Whatever you decide to do, it’s going to affect Xavier, and you need to be able to think to make that decision. It’s not a problem if we need to watch him for a couple more days. Xavier’s almost as much ours as he is yours Lou, and it’s just as important to make sure that Xavier is okay, as it is you. It might be good for you, just for a couple days.”

His eyes are pleading with Louis, and Louis really, _really_ doesn’t like to admit it, but in the end, they’re right. Louis hates it, hates that his mind’s too much of a fucking shit show and he’s not strong enough to be able to put Xavier as first priority right now, but Xavier needs all of someone’s attention, and Louis just can’t give him that; not before he figures out what the hell is going on with Harry. But Liam and Niall can be that; they can be there. It’ll just be like a sleepover, right? Just… an extended one.

“Okay,” Louis nods hesitantly, whispering softly. “Okay.”

Liam and Niall leave a couple hours later after Xavier has woken up and they’ve gotten some of his things, let him say goodbye to his father and reassuring him that everything’s perfectly okay as they go. Louis holds him tightly in his arms, kissing his forehead and telling him he loves him, and he’ll see him soon and to have fun with his uncles.

He watches Liam and Niall carry Xavier out of the house, only slightly awake in Niall’s arms, waving goodbye to his boy. He shuts the door once they’re gone and he leans back against it, sliding down to his feet and pulling his knees to his chest. He breaks down crying again when he catches a glance of the hoodie he’s wearing and remembers it’s Harry’s.

He falls asleep less than an hour later in his bed, once he’s called the school and told them he needs to use a couple of his sick days, and after he gets a text from Liam assuring him that Xavier is safe, accompanied by a picture of him tucked in Maya’s arms on the couch, with Bear on her other side, hair washed from a bath and his firetruck onesie on as they watch Paw Patrol, he shuts his eyes, letting sleep take him.

**  
_xxxiii._ **

Louis spends the next three days in bed, barely leaving his room other than for when he needs to piss, or he gets the occasional stomach growl. He ignores his phone save for when he’s checking in on Xavier or getting updates from Zayn (who had been filled in by Niall almost immediately), telling him that Harry keeps asking about him at work. He ignores every text and call Harry sends too.

He wakes up Tuesday feeling marginally better, which admittedly isn't much but it’s something, and the following Wednesday to faint banging coming from outside the flat. He grumbles, checking his nightstand clock to see who could possibly be knocking at the ungodly hour of… _7 AM??_ , and he throws his covers off, padding out of his bedroom and to the front door.

His eyes are still puffy and red, and his body feels disgusting from a lack of shower in the past couple of days, but he hasn’t been crying as much and he’s eating at least two meals a day, which means he’s progressing. It’s a start.

He mutters under his breath about killing whoever has the balls to wake him up so early when he’s dealing with shit as he grabs the handle of the flat door, and he opens it to see the postman in full uniform, holding a cardboard box with a bored expression on his face.

Louis does his best not to glare at him - he’s only doing his job - but there really was no reason to knock. Louis would have found it when he decided on his own to leave the comfort of his room (eventually. probably). The man hands Louis the package - albeit it with his nose scrunched, probably at Louis’s appearance - and Louis signs for it, thanking the man only half-heartedly with a sleep-heavy voice and closing the door when the delivery man walks away.

He throws the box on the couch and goes back to sleep.

He’s woken up again two hours later to _more_ banging on the door and this time Louis really is going to kill whoever’s standing in front of his flat. He throws the covers off again, dragging himself through the living room, scrubbing at his face and scratching at the patch of golden skin that’s left vulnerable when he stretches his arms up and makes his hoodie ride up. He grips the door handle, snuffling, and twisting it and opening it for the second time.

This time it’s Harry standing there and - wait, shit, it’s _Harry_ , Louis processes as his brain fights to catch up. He looks surprisingly close to as shitty as Louis does, like maybe this has been as difficult for him as it has for Louis, and the sight alone makes Louis’s heart hurt and his chest ache. His throat feels dry because he wasn’t _ready_ to see him so soon and his eyes sting just at the thought of _why_ his heart hurts.

He slams the door shut.

“Louis, open the door,” Harry demands as he knocks harshly again.

Louis crosses his arms across his chest petulantly, rubbing the lingering sleep out of his eyes now that he’s marginally more awake. “Go the fuck away Harry.”

“I’m not leaving until you open this door,” comes the gruff, muffled voice from the other side.

“Then I guess you can sit out there all day,” Louis quips back, starting to pad away again in search of the comfort only his bed can provide him this week. That, and the warmth on his son in his arms, snuggled against his chest, but he’s not here right now, so.

“Louis!” Harry bangs on the door again and the sound is too loud for Louis’s sensitive morning hearing. “Open this damn door.”

Louis doesn’t say anything, just keeps walking away, thinking of all the way’s he can make Harry’s life a living hell when he gets over the fact that Harry doesn’t give two shits about him.

“I know why you’re upset,” is the next thing that comes from the door. It’s quiet - firm, but soft - and Louis freezes, heart hammering in his chest while his breath catches.

Louis doesn’t believe him. “I don’t believe you,” he snaps back.

He can hear Harry sigh on the other side, voice ever patient as he speaks. “You left the computer on Lou. …And Niall told me - can you just. Please, open up. I need to talk to you.”

Louis squeezes his eyes shut, recognizes that it’s most certainly a bad idea, and turns around, walks back to the door. He huffs, swinging the door back open and says incredulously, “You had to have Niall tell you?”

Harry just shakes his head and walks past Louis.

“Well why don’t you just come in then,” Louis mutters as he shuts the door, turning around. “Harry, what are you doing, you don’t need to be here--”

“Sit down Louis,” Harry says before Louis can even get the words out and his tone is sharp, stern. Louis looks up to see his jaw clenched and opens his mouth to sass back because no - this is _his_ flat, and Harry doesn’t just get to invite himself in and start barking orders - but Harry continues first. “ _Now_.”

Louis does, shrinking in on himself a little from Harry’s tone and he walks to the couch that Harry is already standing in front of, silently sitting down and looking up at the man in front of him. He looks tired, exhausted; extremely exhausted. “I know what you saw Louis, but you're wrong.”

Louis scoffs, rolling his eyes because the other option is to let himself think too much and cry too soon. “That’s pretty fucking hard to misinterpret that Harry. I honest to God have no clue in hell what you're doing here now, but if it’s only to say you're leaving, then you can get on with it because I’m aware, thanks. Walk your ass out the door like you did all those years ago--”

“Shut _up_.” Harry interrupts sharply, and Louis does.

Harry runs a hand over his face when Louis snaps his mouth shut and sighs exhaustedly. “Louis, look. I know what you _think_ you saw, but you're so fucking wrong. The email that you read - I applied for that job _months_ ago, before I even moved back; _before you and Xavier, Lou._ It wasn’t anything permanent with my job at Little Harbor, and I just wanted to make sure I had a backup. The only reason it was even there is because they took forever to respond, not because I wanted it. I didn’t even think to tell them that though, because it didn’t cross my _mind_ ; my only priority was you and Xavier, Lou. You should’ve just _talked_ to me. _Why couldn’t you fucking do that?_ ”

Harry bristles, scrubbing his hands over his face like having to explain this _pains_ him. Like he actually needs to talk _down_ to Louis. It hurts, and Louis flinches at his tone, tucking his head timidly. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, so softly it’s almost incoherent. It _really_ _hurts_.

Harry instantly softens when he looks at Louis and he shakes his head. He wasn’t trying to upset him; he wasn’t trying to _scare_ him, Jesus. “No - Lou. Fuck baby. That’s not how I meant it, just - _fuck_. I’m sorry for yelling love, that’s not why I’m here, just… Louis - I was never going to leave you, baby, not after I got you back love.” Harry gives him a desperate look, like he's pleading for Louis to understand that, to believe him.

“Why not?” Louis asks softly, because he’s self-conscious, and because he doesn’t have it in him to have his heart broken again, even if it had been fixed at some point. “The job in Wisconsin, it pays well. _Really_ well. Why wouldn’t you take that?”

Harry shrugs, like it’s the most simple, uncomplicated thing in the world, like there’s no other universe where it isn't true.

“Because I love you Louis.”

Louis’s heart stops beating.

And like, sure, that’s not physically possible but like, _Louis’s heart stops beating._ His breath hitches and his head snaps up from where he was playing with his fingers in his lap, eyes widening like he just can't _believe_.

Harry eyes him warily, hesitantly approaching him and looking at Louis for a reaction at every move he makes. His eyes never leave the blue of Louis’s as he squats in front of the smaller man gently, resting his palms on either one of Louis’s knees, and then it all just rushes out at once; in one fell swoop.

“I love you, Louis, I just _do_. I didn’t - I haven’t stopped, not once, not since the day I left. It doesn’t matter what Wisconsin could have offered me, because I’m madly in love with someone who is _here,_ Lou. I couldn’t _ever_ leave.”

Louis sniffles, trying to breathe around the tears that are falling freely down his face and the smile that’s curving up his lips, grinning wetly. “You are?”

“Yeah, love,” Harry nods softly, tilting his head and smiling so terribly affectionately like just the sight of Louis in his arms while he tells him something so important is everything. And maybe it is. “I’ve loved you for so long baby, maybe - _probably_ \- ever since that first day I walked into that dorm lobby and saw you. You’re my sun, Lou, and I won’t ever abandon the thing that makes my world spin.”

“ _Harry_ \--” Louis chokes out, just the first word of a thought he can’t manage to push through his teeth because it’s all so much. His senses are overstimulated with everything Harry’s claiming and his heart is pounding in his chest, adrenaline pumping and breath racing.

“I love you baby,” he reaffirms, walking closer to Louis as the smaller man looks up at him with glassy blue eyes. “I love you so fucking much it hurts sometimes.”

Louis simpers softly, looking at Harry through foggy vision, blanketed in falling tears. “Say it again,” he murmurs, like anything louder could break the bubble that they’re in, bring the world crashing back down.

Harry leans in. “I love you.”

“Again.”

He presses his forehead to Louis’s, eyes fluttering as their skin heats together. “ _I love you_.”  
  


“One more time?”

Their lips are so close, just a fraction of a centimeter and they’d be kissing. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, _I love you_.”

Louis giggles, fucking _giggles_ , cheeks hurting from smiling so hard, and he lets the happy tears fall easily. He nudges his chin up so that his lips meet Harry’s, just barely, and Harry’s lips are soft on his own, and it’s like an _addiction_ ; like Harry’s a drug that he’s been without for only days, but he’s still desperate for his next fix. It’s slow and languid, like they’re just trying to memorize the feeling of their mouths sliding together so effortlessly; like they’ve given up on trying to explain with words and are desperately searching for answers in the searing heat of their mouths locked together.

Louis pulls back after he pecks Harry’s lips one more time, slow and soft, sensual, and he tightens his hold on the man, wrapping his arms around his neck snugly and pulling Harry on top of him with the leverage of his legs wrapped around his waist.

Harry has no choice but to let himself fall into Louis, and Louis’s head nuzzles into the nape of Harry’s neck, breathing in his lavender scent and sighing serenely, fluttering his eyelids shut as he lays rather awkwardly - but somehow comfortably - between Louis’s thighs.

“I love you too,” Louis thinks to say back, cool, minty breath fanning right over Harry’s ear, speaking softly into it, hugging him endlessly tighter like he could slip away if he doesn’t. “So fucking much,” he whispers, clinging to Harry and fluttering his eyes closed. “ _So much_.”

**_xxxiv._ **

A month later, once June has rolled around and school is officially out for the summer, Liam and Maya’s wedding goes off without a hitch.

  
Well, there were, of course, a couple of small, miniscule little details that did cause some kind of momentary concern - like how the lads had slight trouble getting Liam out of bed at 6 AM after a late night to start getting ready because Karen Payne had threatened their lives if they were late to the church; or how it was just a bit windy and part of the bridal party was having some skirt-related issues - but nothing that was too troublesome. In the end, there was only one thing that had to be right; a specific few words that really matter - and those Liam and Maya got totally, wholeheartedly correct.

The ceremony is beautiful and sweet, and Maya looks positively gorgeous up there in her white dress, veil covering her face until the priest says the magical words, and the bridesmaids next to her - Gigi, Ally, Sarah, and Ivory - are equally as stunning. Well. Almost. They don’t quite have the _I’m-about-to-get-married-to-the-love-of-my-life-and-best-friend_ glow that Maya’s sporting, but they do look elated for her, so it’s all okay.

Xavier does a fantastic job of walking down the aisle, throwing rose petals out while he looks adorable in his little tux, and Bear follows later, carrying the rings down to his father and future stepmom. Everyone coos as his parents bend over to take the rings off the pillow, and the toddler beams, looking dashing in his little tuxedo that matches Xavier’s.

The decorations are gorgeous, and they complement the view of the skyline immaculately. The couple gives their vows, which is almost enough for everyone in attendance to start tearing up - _gosh_ Liam and Maya are sappy bastards, and so utterly _perfect_ for each other - and as if that somehow _wasn’t_ enough to make everybody’s hearts hurt and their smiles grow, Maya pulls out a slip of paper right before the priest announces them officially as _Mr. and Mrs. Liam Payne_. She squats down as well as she can in her dress - which (in Louis’s _expertise_ opinion) is almost equally as stunning as her, by the way - and she reads off the paper to Bear as she holds his tiny hand.

Bear listens attentively, smiling gleefully at the woman as she tells him how much she not only loves his father, but how much she loves him too; how he’s her son as well. She promises to love him unconditionally no matter what, and always be there for him, and by the end, everyone in the room has shed at least a tear or five, and Maya looks like she’s about to break down too, just with how utterly affectionately she’s looking at the toddler in front of her.

Bear hugs her tightly when she finishes and exclaims that he loves her too. Liam watches on with adoration, tears pooling in his own eyes as he stands looking devilishly handsome at the front, and yeah, that’s why he’s marrying her, Louis knows: because the love of his life loves his son just as much; like he’s hers.

Louis also watches as the toddler walks over to Cheryl, who was also invited, when the priest announces that the Bride and Groom can kiss now - officially married - and _seriously_ , it’s slightly concerning how effortlessly close they all are, how they all get on so well. It amazes and shocks Louis all at the same time.

The reception follows soon after and it’s gorgeous too. Louis was right all those months ago about the sunset that would appear on the night of, because there’s a pink orange hue that encompasses the room, lighting every dress and every centerpiece beautifully, and the view is breathtaking, the perfect setting of romance and bliss that radiates off of every surface in the room.

Everybody’s having the time of their lives as they socialize and mingle, and Louis watches it all will wide, disbelieving eyes. He can’t comprehend that he’s finally here, after so long, sitting at his best mates wedding with the love of his life and the son they share. A year ago, if you told Louis this was going to be his future, he would have laughed in your face unapologetically. Now though, now the only thing he can do is smile at how much he loves the people in this room.

The first two courses are mouthwateringly delicious, and the bridesmaids and best men give their toasts to the couple sometime in between. Louis’s on the beginning of his second glass of champagne when the first dance is announced, and he watches proudly as Maya first dances with Liam and then her father and then Bear. Couples start to trickle onto the dance floor eventually, and Harry pulls Louis with him, forcing Louis to hand Xavier off to Gigi who’s sitting at the table with them.

Louis huffs about having to dance, complaining all the way to the floor, but he stops being difficult when they get there and Harry pouts, whining adorably that he, “ _Just want to dance with you Lou.”_ Louis indulges him, if not with a fond roll of his eyes, and Harry’s answering beam is enough reason for Louis to want to promise to dance with him a hundred times over.

They sway, slow and simple, and Harry rests his chin on Louis’s head as he holds him close to his chest, whispering sweet nothings into his ear as Louis looks around, catching the eyes of various people as he relaxes into the hold of Harry’s arms around him, basking in the safe sensation of Harry’s warmth and Harry’s smell and Harry’s voice.

They walk back off a couple of songs later after Harry softly pulls back, pressing a kiss to Louis’s forehead and tangling their fingers together as they go. Louis watches during the third and final course before cake that won’t be served for at least another hour, as Xavier sits on Harry’s lap, the man spooning bites of his food into Xavier’s mouth like an airplane and making the boy giggle.

The two disappear off to somewhere else eventually, probably talking to one of Liam’s relatives that Harry remembers (or more likely, that remembers him, and wrangles him into a conversation before he could escape because Harry’s way too polite to make up an excuse, even when he has his son in his arms that probably wants to go run around with the other kids), and Louis converses with Niall, Ally, Gigi, and Zayn who all look suspiciously loved up sitting at the table with him. He can’t help but wonder whose wedding they’ll be attending next.

He walks around after that, letting Zayn trick him into stepping back onto the dance floor eventually when “My House,” starts blasting through the speakers, and Louis indulges him, if only to watch as him and Niall attempt, and fail, to dance as well. They’re horrific, really. Gigi and Ally better watch out.

He escapes a handful of songs later, slipping out when Niall gets sidetracked with trying to defend Zayn’s dancing ability honor after Gigi and Ally start laughing affectionately at them when Zayn pulls out the sprinkler, and then can’t stop when Niall follows his lead, and Louis heads over to the bar, grabbing another flute of champagne.

He scans over the crowd, smiling at an elderly couple dancing goofily with each other towards the edge of the dancefloor and a little cousin of Maya’s who’s currently doing his best to woo a little lady friend, showing off his moves, and his eyes catch on a tall, handsome man, dressed gorgeously in his tux for the night while he holds a boy in his arms, both with matching brown curls.

Louis’s eyes soften at the sight of Harry and Xavier, and from here he can see that he was right. Liam’s great aunt - Patricia? or something, Linda maybe? - is gesticulating widely as she explains something very enthusiastically to Harry and Xavier. Harry listens intently, polite as he is, and Louis can see easily that Xavier’s being characteristically shy, even in the dim lighting of the room, burrowing his head into Harry’s neck and squirming while he tries to hide his face, not one to act like his usual, rambunctious self with strangers.

Harry’s rubbing circles into his back softly all the while engaging in conversation, and he drops a kiss to his boy’s hair before answering the woman. Xavier stops squirming and smiles at the action, going lax in his father’s arms and Louis’s heart hurts at the image. He’s so, so in love with the man.

Liam walks up to him sometime while he’s staring, stopping at his side, and Louis sees with his perifoveal vision that Liam says something by the way his lips move and he stares at Louis intently, but he doesn’t even register the words, too busy watching the two most important boys in his life. Louis hums in lieu of an answer, nodding his head supportively even though Liam could have just said he was selling Louis to the Russian mob and Louis wouldn’t have known the difference.

He sees Liam turn his head to find whatever has all of Louis’s attention and Liam makes a noise of assent from beside him, watching as Harry politely dismisses himself from the conversation with Great Aunt Linda and starts walking away, playing with Xavier’s smaller fingers in his own and bouncing him on his hip, whispering something in his ear that makes the boy smile and nod enthusiastically, giggling into his father’s shoulder.

Harry walks in the general direction of them, eyes scanning the crowd as he says fleeting “hello’s,” to the people he passes. His eyes light up when they land on Louis, and he grins, showcasing his dimple and waving at Louis. Louis waves back with a small, soft, completely-gone-for-the-man-and-endeared smile, waving again and mouthing a “hey baby,” when Harry gets Xavier’s attention and points to his other father across the room, the toddler waving enthusiastically at Louis.

Harry turns away with the boy, heading off in the direction of the desert bar, and Louis can only imagine that they’re sneaking off to eat some of the treats early. It’s definitely a Harry thing to do.

Louis watches the pair’s movements as they go, and Liam stays silent beside him, smiling at the exchange. Louis smiles softly, lips tugging up just that much more when his brain lights up with a thought and his eyes are on Harry - giggling as he feeds Xavier a brownie - when he murmurs, “I’m gonna marry him one day Li.”

Liam’s silent for a moment, although Louis can see the way his lips tug up at the confession too; not a manic grin like the man is thoroughly amused, but a soft smile, like he can’t help but agree with Louis’s words.

“Yeah,” Liam whispers a few fleeting moments later, “You are Lou.”

(And they will, within the next eighteen months.

Louis and Xavier will officially move in with Harry a couple months later, following Liam and Maya’s wedding - something they’d been talking about very seriously - and Harry will propose one Thursday night in the middle of one of Xavier’s tantrums because the boy wants to stay up and finish the _third_ Frozen movie that had just come out on Blu-Ray.

Louis will look over to see Harry laughing uncontrollably, in total disbelief and awe, as Louis tries to wrangle their toddler into bed, and he’ll exasperatedly yell at his boyfriend, demanding to know what’s so funny. Harry will laugh some more, wiping hysterical tears from his eyes, and just beam up at Louis from the recliner he was in, pulling something out of his pocket.

Louis will gape - _because what the_ _hell, is that a fucking **ring**?_ \- and Harry will explain how he was going to wait a bit longer, until the perfect moment, when they were both dressed in tuxes and at some fancy restaurant downtown with a bottle of red sitting on the white tablecloth in front of them. But then he’ll say how this is better, how it’s moments like this specifically when he wants so badly to be able to officially call Louis his husband: when they’re sitting on no particular night in the living room and trying to bribe their almost five-year-old son into going to sleep without a fight for once, and how he can’t wait a second longer to have a ring sitting on Louis’s left hand.

Louis will gape at Harry some more while his eyes well with tears, and he’ll hit Harry’s shoulder for being so endearingly sappy, but he’ll throw himself at his fiancé - holy shit, _fiancé_ \- anyway, pressing their lips together as Harry’s arms hold him tight. Xavier will want in on the hug too, and they’ll let him in, the boy jumping excitedly at the thought of a ring on his daddy’s finger, even if he doesn’t exactly understand what it means. (They’ll let him finish the movie too.)

Harry and Louis will wed by the following August, and they’ll do it at Dartmouth House, with Xavier as the ring bearer this time and Niall, Zayn, and Liam as the best men on either of their sides. It will be beautiful and emotional and everything Louis had dreamed of when he was standing inside the venue for the first time two years ago.

They’ll have another child too - a daughter, that they’ll name Darcy Jay Tomlinson-Styles - and Xavier will take the role of protective older brother very seriously, right after begging to hold the baby as soon as she’s out of Louis’s arms in the hospital room and giggling down at her when she tries to pull on his curls.

She’ll grow up right alongside Xavier, and they’ll both be best friends with Bear, along with Zayn and Gigi’s child - another baby girl - that follows a few months later, and Niall and Ally’s set of twins soon after that. They’ll all apply and get accepted to the same college and Louis and Harry will both wave their babies off, watching them as they continue on their own paths and build their own lives.

They’ll all spend every holiday together, and every time one of the kids brings a new girlfriend or boyfriend home, they’ll have to overcome not only meeting the parents of their significant other, but also gaining approval from the three other sets of parents as well. It’ll probably be a lot daunting - having to impress so many people - but their family will be big, and every single one of them will love it.

Harry and Louis will have their ups and downs, like any married couple, but they’ll make it work through every one of them, too, never staying too mad at each other for too long and always making up for it. They’ll tell their story to every child and grandchild who asks at the annual New Year’s celebration when all four families get together, and the children will giggle every time they hear it, grinning at how Louis’s eyes sparkle when he looks at Harry and how Harry’s eyes soften every time he catches sight of his husband.

They’ll be together, and they’ll be happy, and they’ll stick by each other’s sides until death separates them, but only long enough for them to be buried right next to each other.)

**_Finished._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that's it. If you've managed to read all the way through this, it means the world and I appreciate it very much :) thank you so much for reading this and I hope you've enjoyed it, feel free to leave a comment !, much love <3


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